


Allotrope

by Razega



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Chaptered, Clothed Sex, Edging, F/M, Lots of Sex, One Night Stands, Overstimulation, Semi Public Sex, Shower Sex, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Unprotected Sex, and a total sweetie, how many times can you sleep with someone before you fall in love with them???, junmyeon is lonely, thigh riding, we're gonna test this theory so buckle up sis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:35:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 81,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21903100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Razega/pseuds/Razega
Summary: The first time you met him, you knew who he was.Or rather, you thought you knew.You knew him as a leader of a group of younger brothers. A teller of Dad Jokes and generous giver to his members. A man who knew just how devastatingly handsome he was but somehow, didn’t let it go to his head.You knew him only as Suho, not Kim Junmyeon. He told you as much during your first conversation.You tried to prove him wrong.He wanted to hope you were right.
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Reader
Comments: 28
Kudos: 83





	1. Chapter 1

The first time you met him, you knew who he was.

Or rather, you thought you knew.

You knew him as a leader of a group of younger brothers. A teller of Dad Jokes and generous giver to his members. A man who knew just how devastatingly handsome he was but somehow, didn’t let it go to his head.

You knew him only as Suho, not Kim Junmyeon. He told you as much during your first conversation.

You tried to prove him wrong.  
He wanted to hope you were right.

A typical Friday night. Where most might consider the hour ‘late’, you thrived. Nearly eleven thirty as your feet worked quickly and gracefully, weaving between other staff members. Friday nights had a love hate relationship with you.

You loved them because it was the easiest night to make bank, with the wealthy coming out of the woodwork to perch themselves daintily at the best restaurants in the city. You made good money working here any night, but you could easily walk away with a few hundred more on Fridays. Especially during the holidays.

You hated them because with the wealthy came the pompous, and you hated their attitudes. Too entitled to care how busy you are with your life and assuming that just because you work in a restaurant, you’re never going to amount to anything. The degree you’re so busy finishing when you’re not waiting tables will mean nothing.

If they weren’t pompous, they were egotistical. Men and women, all too giving with attention and cheesy, whispered promises of a good time that made you swallow bile and cringe. They paid well, but the money always felt gross.

As a veteran, having worked this gig the entire duration of your college career thus far, the celebrities didn’t phase you anymore. You were not here for them.

The giddy excitement of greenhorn servers working high profile tables is what set them sinking before they knew it. It went to their head. Not for you. It was dull enough that you simply did the job. That isn’t to say you didn’t generally enjoy the atmosphere when you served someone famous that was a decent human being. Sometimes they would tell you how much they enjoyed you treating them like they weren’t famous, too.

They appreciated how real you were, and you appreciated that they said so. You always tried to see that there is more to people than what they showed on the surface.

Why tonight was any different wasn’t something you had been expecting. When your manager came to you about a group of idols coming to dine in thirty minutes, nothing was nothing new. It wasn’t unusual for larger groups to ask for a private space, which your restaurant could certainly accommodate.

The time of their arrival was just the same as every other. You had hosted and served many groups over the years, but couldn’t ever really recall serving EXO. Perhaps, if they had dined here at all, it was while you were away.

With a fellow veteran and your closest friend, you greeted them. Easily, they appeared tired but happy, wearing comfortable oversized sweatshirts and athletic pants. Various hats or none at all adorned their heads, and their masks were removed once they finally settled into their seats.

Their manager sounded kind, apologizing in advance for any trouble the rowdy men may cause prior to taking his seat at the staff table in the room. You assured it was no trouble at all and got to work.

As someone heavily influenced by music, you knew who they were. You might even say you were a fan, but not die hard. Being a die hard fan lost its glimmer when you’ve been disappointed often enough in how little humanity is left in too high a percentage of people with just as much money and power as them.

So why did this feel different? Not unpleasant, but a persistent buzz in the back of your head making you pay more attention to them. Their leader, stage named Suho, was lounging at one corner of the table, fingers tapping lazily at his temple while he watched his younger brothers taking jibes at one another with a smile so fond it made you look twice.

He didn’t seem to notice and you carried on, bringing their copious drinks and appetizers. The largest one, Chanyeol alone seemed to devour an entire plate of wings before asking you politely for another with stars in his eyes.

When their meals arrived, Junmyeon looked up to your face with a phrase of polite thanks on his tongue, but it seemed to die as his brows rose and then his forehead creased.

You caught the way Sehun snickered beside him. Something funny you weren’t attuned to. Fearing embarrassment, you ignored them, briskly completing the delivery of their meals.

Taking Soohyun, your partner, by the arm, you turned away.

“Is there something on my face? In my teeth?”

He frowned, brow furrowing deeply as he leaned around to look at your face more critically, inspecting further when you showed him your pearly whites.

“No.”

“Oh.” The air was pregnant with words you didn’t say.

He laughed a bit at your response, “Why are you frowning suddenly?”

You huffed, tapping the end of your pen against your lips, “Just confused. Junmyeon acted like there was something on my face when I set his food down. Sehun laughed, too.”

“Y/N.” he said sternly.

You didn’t bother to look at him, instead losing yourself in your thoughts and absentmindedly checking your watch.

“Hey.” he said again, gently shoving his elbow into your arm and laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Don’t hit me, okay?”

Rolling your eyes, you placed you hands on your hips and raised a brow at him.

He sighed in defeat, “I don’t think he expected someone so pretty.”

The sound of your garbled revolt at his pure and utter bullshit was loud enough to make one or two pairs of smokey eyes flick toward you curiously. The two more observant of the group, Minseok and Kyungsoo, turned their eyes back to their meals after briefly meeting yours to confirm nothing was wrong.

“I’m serious, Y/N! You’re very pretty, almost too pretty.” Soohyun said.

He deserved the playful punch to his ribs, “Thanks for the backhanded compliment.”

The older man only continued laughing. Having your answer that it was in fact, not you, approaching the table again was normal.

You took a second Soju order for Chanyeol and Baekhyun, but a cool finger stopped you before you could leave. Normally, you would feel upset that someone physically touched you without asking. Something about the gentle touch sent a shock up your arm. Something warm and light and peaceful and not gross at all.

“Um, excuse me.”

You whirled, finding the man who had lost his words earlier staring up at you kindly.

“What can I get for you Mr. Kim?” you asked politely, pen at the ready against your leather notepad. You put on your best air of nonchalance.

He paused briefly, “You know who I am?” he inquired.

You nodded, “You’re Kim Junmyeon.”

Simple, was the way you said it. As if that were the truth and the only truth that mattered to him. The stare he fixed you with was unusual, and you couldn’t place the intent of its depth.

He recovered, dropping the intensity and falling into his charm, “Don’t you mean to say Suho?”

You were not here to take the bait, but you took it anyway. Something in his smile told you he was genuinely interested in your answer.

“Well, Suho is part of who you are as a whole. As Junmyeon.”, you clarified with a pout.

He nodded, sweeping a hand through his hair. He challenged you, “I see, I see…”

Immediately you took that as a bad sign, “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

His eyes snapped back to yours and holding the warmth of his stare was easier than looking even your parents in the eyes.

“Not at all, but I’m afraid you only know Suho. Not Junmyeon.” His tone was teasing.

What were you supposed to say to that? It would be too easy to agree, but you didn’t do easy.

“Everyone can have their own opinions. Agree to disagree.”

He laughed. Genuinely, he barked out and it touched his eyes. Enough that Sehun turned away from his food to watch.

“Fair enough. I’m sorry I’ve kept you from work. I’ll let you get back to it.”

“My work is to serve you right now, so I think you’re fine.” you assured with an honest smile of your own. Nothing about his presence or demeanor set your alarms off. You had never experienced someone with this much influence that didn’t give you alarms of ulterior motives.

With that, you parted to take care of the drink orders several of his members had placed.

The next hour continued on this way. Taking care of their tables with Soohyun by bringing drinks and Chanyeol’s endless love and appetite for chicken. The louder boys, the Beagle line, were all several drinks in and entertaining the table.

It might be a white lie to say their antics were not also entertaining to you whenever you were present, but the way Junmyeon kept catching your eyes with his own was quickly taking over your down time at their table.

Now, you liked to think yourself someone who enjoys others company. You’re a consenting adult and have had your fair share of experiences, both good and bad, both relationships and one night stands because you understand that your life is incredibly busy and you deserve to have some fun.

However, you had never considered even entertaining the idea of sleeping with someone you met on the job. You had never met someone who’s advances were not ultimately unappealing or downright creepy while being here. It was quite strange, how natural it felt. How obvious it was that he seemed to be struggling to put this gravitational pull into proper thought as well.

There was something trusting and warm about the way he watched you. Almost protective, like the guardian angel his name was true to. The way he appreciated your presence was tender and not exactly unwelcome. Perhaps a bit unexpected, but you didn’t mind it. He would go on his way once he and his members were finished dining anyway and then you might never cross paths again.

You were aware Junmyeon was extremely smart. Smart enough to realize it was going on one thirty and the restaurant patrons were dying off. Smart enough to let you catch his subtle tells. Tells such as you watching him chewing his lip while he looked up what time your establishment closed with his phone on the table.

Tells such as the way he seemed to lean toward you or ask you specifically if he needed something but respecting you enough not to touch. Anything to engage you specifically in conversation. Tells such as the way his eyes seemed to bore into you from across the room, or the way he visibly bristled when Jongdae a little too obviously checked you out from across the table while you took an order for cake from Yixing.

You noted he hadn’t had a drop of liquor the entire night. Opting for water through the meal and hot tea toward the end. Happily shocked, you smiled delightfully when he snuck out his black card and handed it to you, asking if you would please put their bill on it.

When his members whooped and hollered with thanks to him, he took it well. He didn’t do it for show. He did it to treat his brothers as an act of love.

You returned his card with the leather fold for him to sign, smiling. “That was kind of you.”

His charming, joking smile appeared again, quirking a brow at you and letting his fingers intentionally touch yours during the pass of the leather booklet.

“Kind of who?” he asked with a raised brow, the index finger of his free hand rubbing across his bottom lip.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you answered, “I suppose of Suho. I thought you said I didn’t know Junmyeon.”

He smirked at you, nodding in acquiesce.

Parting from him, you began to clear the remaining dishes. The group began getting up, stretching and putting on coats with whines of content fullness and protest at having to move. Proclamations of how tired they were, drooping eyes and full stomachs. A few with their arms draped around one another in camaraderie as they began to file out.

Just as you returned from the kitchen to collect more dishes, they began to say their thanks and goodbyes, following some of their staff out of the room. You bowed to each and every one of them with thanks and the normal phrases to kindly please return.

Sehun and Suho were the last of the line, with Sehun not having said a word more than he had to. Junmyeon on the other hand, with half of a smirk tucked into his cheek, thanked you directly as he left. His eyes, that rich deep brown, bore into yours with something that made you blush. Something that insinuated it wouldn’t be the last time you saw him.

Soohyun collected the check from their table and told you that he would see off the remaining table of their staff while you cleared a bus bin of dishes.

The moment you turned the corner, Soohyun came rushing into the kitchen nearly on your heels.

“Uh, I think this was meant for you.” he coughed, clearing his throat and holding the receipt toward you.

Written on the back were six simple words that sent you into a fit. You noted how pretty his handwriting was.

_‘Would you like to find out?’_

You flubbered for words, opening your mouth several times but nothing came out. Heat poured from every orifice on your face and you looked at Soohyun with wild eyes.

“ _He-_ ”

Soohyun laughed, thick arms folded across his thicker chest, “I know.”

“ _And I-_ ”

“Deserve to have some fun.” he finished for you, leaning his torso forward and locking eyes with you.

The face he was making at you was nothing but sincere and absolutely serious. You were frozen.

“Their manager is waiting for your answer. Go ahead if you want, I can finish up.”

You sat for a moment, thinking. You were still unnerved a bit, distracted by the way you’ve been rendered so completely shaken by the feel of Junmyeon’s stare. As if he were still staring into you. Underneath the feeling of being shaken, most noticeably was the lukewarm feeling you shouldn’t do this because it gets tricky with famous anyones.

Below even that layer, burning like magma beneath the Earth’s surface, was the pure want for him. You were at a loss, trying to remember when the last time was you desired someone so greatly. How badly and how long it has been since you’ve given in to your basic needs.

“Should I?” you ask Soohyun, and his reaction tells you he wasn’t expecting you to hesitate.

He smiled again, one hand coming to rest on your shoulder, “I think you should do whatever you want to and not regret it.”

You glared at him, “That’s not helpful, and shouldn’t you be more protective of me? You’re practically my big brother! Shouldn’t you be upset and telling me he’s a creep?”

At your admission, Soohyun laughed. He often laughed at things. “While most of the time that’s how I feel, I think we both know this time was different. I’ve never seen you so comfortable and electric with someone like that, famous or not.”

The weight in your gut lifted. He was right. Soohyun was typically your go-to friend when you wanted to go out and get drunk and maybe take someone home. He was there to have his own good time, but he always watched your back and got you out of uncomfortable situations.

“Just be safe, and text me when you get home.” he clarified with serious eyes.

“Thank you for this.” you whispered to him before turning to walk back into the private dining room.

True to what Soohyun said, their manager was loitering awkwardly by the door, his attention snapped to you the moment you whirled back around the corner and into view.

“So, how does this work?” you asked, rubbing your arm and looking away. The sound of your own voice made you cringe.

The manager chuckled lightly, “Well, I don’t really know. None of them do this kind of thing very much, if ever.”

You balched at him, “Really?”

He smiled at you, nodding, “Really.”

“Okay, so…” you trailed off, almost more apprehensive. Was he just saying that or was that really the case?

“I think the best way, is to give you my cell number. We go our own ways, assuming you’re leaving work now. When you’re ready, come to this hotel,” he handed you a card before continuing, “and when you get there, text me and take the main elevator to the seventeenth floor.”

“Oh.” you voiced, “That sounds reasonable enough.”

The manager smiled again, “I think it goes without saying that you have to keep this to yourself and anything that happens involving Suho, correct? Lest there be legal matters.” You could tell he didn’t mean it maliciously, but he has to say it to protect his idols. He seemed like a good man with only EXO’s best interests in mind.

“Absolutely.”

“Great. I’ll take my leave then.” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and smiling at you kindly, “Thank you again for taking care of them here. I know they can be chaotic.”

“Oh, I don’t think they were at all!” you chimed pleasantly.

The manager’s face flashed with something sly he wanted to say but instead he chewed the inside of his cheek and said nothing when he left.

_______________________________

Just a little over an hour later, you were nervous as ever when you heard the elevator ping loudly, opening it’s smooth metal doors to the seventeenth floor. The hall was fairly quiet, sans for the ice machine humming in the vending machine niche a few paces down.

A door opened somewhere down the long hallway and you recognized the familiar figure of a middle aged man walking calmly toward you. He had since changed into something more comfortable, wearing a hoodie, sweat pants and socks.

You felt awkward as you stood there in your leggings and oversized sweater and the discreet overnight bag strap suddenly felt like it was digging unbearably into your shoulder.

Your hair was still half wet from your shower, dangling loosely around your shoulders, and you shifted from foot to foot, deciding at the last moment to move toward him. Your were tremoring with every step. Luckily, you could blame it on the cold. “Good evening, miss Y/N.” he said quietly.

“Good evening.” you returned with a small bow.

Further down the hallway a door opened and pretty, boyish laughter you remember hearing a lot at their dinner table rang out before it was promptly slammed shut again.

The manager sighed, closing his eyes momentarily and you stifled a small giggle, the easiest way for you to release some nervous energy. Your trembling fingers remained hidden beneath the paws of your sweater.

“You seem nervous.” he said flatly once the noise ceased, his hands stuffed into the front hoodie pocket.

You smiled, but didn’t try to lie, “I don’t do this much either. It’s always a nervous experience.”

“It’s not because he is a celebrity?” he asked, voice laced with curiosity. He squinted at you, adjusting his glasses, as  
if your answer would be his judgement of your person.

Lying never got you anywhere. You did your best to always be honest, “With all due respect, I see famous, rich people whenever I work. He isn’t any different in that regard. But most of those people…” you trailed off and looked to the floor as if the words you couldn’t find might have been written there.

“I’ve learned to be a pretty scary judge of character. Junmyeon didn’t give me any of the alarms I usually get from people who possess the same power he does.”

The manager nodded, his lower lip protruding slightly at your remarks.

“I think you’re in pretty good hands then. His room is this way.” You must have been given his seal of approval.

He turned, leading you back down the corridor with the dimmed hallway lights to room number one seven two three.

Before he knocked for you, he cleared his throat, “So if you need anything I’m right there.” twisting to point to a door two rooms down and across the hall.

“Have fun, okay? He’s a good guy.” came his whispered goodbye, swiftly knocking on the door with two firm raps before turning to make his way back to his own room.

You watched him go, and just as the manager’s door closed, the one in front of you opened.

A waft of warm steam gently passed you, catching your attention to see the bathroom was just inside the room, wide open with the light on. Standing right in front of you was Junmyeon.

His hair was wet but combed back and to the side, and he was shirtless. That was all you could assess before he was quickly but smoothly dragging you inside so he could close the door, away from prying eyes.

“Sorry.” you muttered, eyes glued to the floor. You liked to think you could work through your nerves pretty well but the warmth that spread up your arm from where he had your wrist was making it difficult not to lock up.

He smiled prettily, “Hey, it’s alright. You don’t need to be sorry for anything, okay?”

Slowly, your eyes climbed back up from the floor, starting from the tiny dark spot on the carpet where his hair had just dripped.

You noted, much to your liking, that he wasn’t wearing anything more than an untied pair of fitted sweats. There was a towel around his shoulders. Making eye contact again must have assured him in some way that you weren’t going to run.

He moved away, “Make yourself comfortable, I’m just finishing up.” The towel became a frenzy at the back of his head while he scrunched it over and over, trying to soak up the moisture.

Removing your shoes while you observed him going back to the bathroom, it dawned on you. The back of his neck and his ears were red. You weren’t the only one who was nervous.

It made you laugh, in a burst a bit too loud, considering the buzz of the music he was playing was far too quiet to elicit such a reaction.

The light in the bathroom flicked off just as he emerged, a boyish grin tucked into his cheek, “What’s so funny?”

You let yourself sit on the bed, rubbing your face with both hands, “Nothing.”

He wasn’t having it, laughing gently along with your smile, “Oh come on, I feel like I’m missing out.”

Junmyeon was stepping closer now, standing and looking down at you with a soft smile that put a crease in his eyes.

“It’s just… it feels ridiculous to be nervous about this. I was taught that laughter is best for combating nerves.”

“Hm,” Junmyeon hummed, “Whoever told you that must be very wise.”

A tiny pang of sadness flickered across your face before it disappeared, “He was.”

Junmyeon caught on immediately, his smile fading to watch you intently, stepping closer still.

“Who?”

You smiled up at him, “My Dad.”

You had to admit, part of Junmyeon’s charm was how attentive he was to others empathetically. Instead of being unnerved about it, you felt as if his ability to see into you was a source of warmth and comfort. He never looked away from your face.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered, his fingers hesitantly reaching to tap against the top of your thighs softly.

Your smile broadened, “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

There was a pause where you watched his fingers quietly, tapping innocently against the tops of your legs to the beat of the music.

“Y/N.” he called you, and it was beautiful hearing him say it so pleasantly.

“There are a few things I want you to understand, but it is best that I tell you directly instead of it coming to you through my manager.”

You froze up, immediately thinking something bad, “Okay.”

He looked down at you, leaving his fingers splayed against your leggings but no longer moving, “First, let me say I never do this kind of thing. I don’t have the time to get involved with it, let alone attend to my own needs. There’s a lot riding on my shoulders and it’s just really getting to me and I wasn’t really looking for anything like this but you just came out of nowhere and I-”

You put a finger up to his lips, “Junmyeon, stop. It’s okay, I get it. Me, too.” You were giggling again.

He sighed, taking your hand in his from his lips and holding it.

“That leads me to the next thing I wanted to say. You are in no way required to do anything. Just because I asked you to come here and we’re intending to r-release some… frustration, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” he quipped, brows knitted together again.

His skin was painted in a pretty blush. Your eyes remained glued to him, fascinated in watching it slowly creep down his neck. It pained you to look away from his abs when you replied.

“I appreciate that. I suppose what I’d like to say is we’re both adults and I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be. I’ll admit I don’t do this often either, between work and class I don’t have the time to pay attention to my own needs.”

Your smile was wistful as you spoke, and Junmyeon with his thumb, caressed the back of your hand he was still holding.

“I think it’s pretty obvious there is mutual attraction. We’re just acting on it.” he murmured against your palm. You swallowed thickly, nodding.

Something heavy festered between you as the last of the words faded away with finality. Subtly, the hand remaining on your thigh tightened it’s grip, your knees touching against his legs.

Junmyeon looked at you with that penetrating stare again, but your light melted his gaze into a different kind of intense. You stood your ground by focusing on how nice you thought he smelled, fresh from his shower.

“So what is there for us to be nervous about?” he whispered, taking the advantage you gave him to step closer by inching your legs apart for him.

His face was close and you could smell his mouth wash. You realized he was waiting for an answer.

You tilted your head toward him, your lips barely breathing the word ‘nothing’ before he was on you.

He placed your hand against his chest and it felt as if you were touching the Sun. His skin was scorching beneath your fingers, the delicate blush still blooming across him like a rosy sunset.

His mouth felt warm, balmy. Wonderful yet cautious. He was taking his time, just sampling your lips slowly, gently, perhaps waiting for you to stop him. Inwardly you might cringe at how awkward this was. As if it were a first kiss with a crush playing seven minutes in heaven during a high school party. Except… it didn’t feel like that at all. You were both experienced, only new with one another.

A new song came on his shuffle and you both smiled, nearly laughing into each other’s mouths when you recognized it as one of his own songs.

You took the opportunity to separate from him, hauling the strap of your bag over your shoulder. He politely took it from you and placed it on the chair near the foot of the bed before coming right back to you.

Not so hesitantly this time he stepped into you against the bed, pulling your thighs around him. Every touch seemed to quell the strength of this force between you. It wasn’t perfect, by any means, but you felt better touching him than not. There was no awkward placement of hands upon one another’s body like a virgin experience would be.

His kiss was passionate this time. Slower, but deeper, with his brow furrowed, he tried to find what you liked and you stumbled through finding a pace and a style that you both liked. Not too much teeth or tongues. He pulled your lip gently between his and the tiny sound of surprise from you fueled him further.

Making out, let alone kissing, was never perfect between a pair for the first time, and your head was swimming with how attentive he was to figure out how you liked to be kissed. What made you breathless. You hoped he could feel you were trying to do the same for him.

The tame swipe of your tongue against his lip created the opportunity to go further, tangling his tongue with yours in such a way that pulled a quiet moan from his chest. Now you were getting somewhere, just feeling and not thinking.

Junmyeon’s hands were urging you backwards, up the bed. He almost smacked your nose with his forehead trying to keep connected, kissing you while he climbed onto the plush linens after you.

He smiled, mumbling an apology while extending one well sculpted arm toward you, catching your leg and leaning over you. He sank down, dark eyes trained on you lips.

Your legs automatically separated to make room for him. He pulled the one in his grasp up to his hip while you let the other match it.

The feeling of his erection pressing into your center sent a soft moan from your lips. His own, plush and red from kisses activity dropping open and his forehead creasing.

“Junmyeon.” you whined. You hated to admit it, but kissing was always one of your favorite things. With any partner, if they were a good kisser, you were putty in their hands.

“Huh?” he cooed, trying his not to show you how much this affected him, too. You were just two people who had neglected your needs for far too long. Two people who were doing something about it. Two people who conveniently had a free schedule for the next six or more hours.

You said nothing in return, instead pulling him down to have his lips working against yours again. Taking note how he nearly purred with your fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck, you tugged delicately.

It only seemed to fuel Junmyeon further, shuffling closer on his knees and adjusting the angle to roll his hips against you.

You moaned against his mouth, that felt too good. An explicit pleasure to you both, he did it a second time, moving his lips to your neck to stutter out a groan.

“Can I take this off, please?” he begged, fisting the huge sweater surrounding you. He seemed personally offended by it clearly wanting to be in the way instead of where he thought it belonged, on the floor.

Before he pulled it up, he checked with you, and it made your heart flutter at his kindness. He was making sure you both felt like equals in this space, even if sharing this kind of thing was temporary.

Junmyeon helped you to sit up, taking the hem of the pink sweater and pulling it over your head. He was too busy tossing it toward your bag to notice what you were up to. His eyes were wide but in awe when he turned back to you with one arm twisted behind your back.

Then suddenly you’re sliding the black fabric down your arms and tossing it away, only to throw yourself back down against the soft bed. Junmyeon was lost, with his eyes hooded and his tongue poking out to wet his suddenly dry lips.

“You’re so pretty.” he commented, letting one palm slide up from your hip over your stomach and further still, catching the underside of one breast and giving it a moderate squeeze.

You relished in the attention he gave them, leaning his head down to lick. You hissed through your teeth when he pulled back slightly to blow coolly against the wetness he left behind. The soothing relief of his molten mouth against it was immediate and he made you arch into his face further when he brought his other hand to your side and ran his fingers teasingly over your ribs.

He couldn’t help the groan spilling from his lips when you put your hands in his hair again and ground your hips up into his. He switched his attention to your neglected nipple, biting before releasing it, smacking the flesh of your breast lightly, in awe as it bounced softly.

You hissed, “Ow, you bit too hard.” with a pout, which he promptly kissed away.

“I’m sorry.” Junmyeon whispered, a sheepish grin splitting his lips.

It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t unpleasant. With a hand gripping your hip tightly, the dark haired man rolled into you further, emitting a growl that only fueled him to grind harder against you by your soft moans.

Your fingernails scraped down his scalp and further, across the top of his back as far as you could reach.

“Fuck.” dripped from his lips in a strained voice and you blushed, certain the word has never sounded so sexy to your ears.

He released your breast, too focused on the attention you were giving one another through your clothing. His brows were knitted together again, lips open prettily as he sat up to pull your hips flush against his crotch.

“I can feel how hot you are even through all these layers.” he purred, fingers tracing down your center but avoiding where you wanted him most.

All you did was whine in response, instead reaching out to dip your fingertips into the band of his sweats.

He moaned, “You want it?”

“I want you.” was your reply, biting your lip and running your fingers over his abs appreciatively. His stomach twitched beneath your butterfly fingers.

He grinned, cocking a brow, “Want _who? Suho? Junmyeon?_ ”

You grinned back at him, “Whichever one is going to let me take all his stress away.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he began, understanding painting his face, “I don’t think I’ll last enough for that right now, but I’d really like to taste you.” The moan that left you at his words alone whipped a wolfish smile onto his face.

He broke away to move off the bed briefly. Pulling a box of condoms from a convenience store bag, he set them on the night stand before curling a finger at you with a smile.

You were awash with lust as you watched him, unmoving until his voice, gravely with want, broke you from your reverie.

“C’mere.” he plead.

Finally, you obliged him, moving to lay at the side of the bed. Your hips rose easily to aid him in removing your leggings, your panties right along with them, and Junmyeon was moaning before your legs were even free of them.

He sunk to his knees, his warm palms gentle but firm in their parting of your thighs for him. You mildly protested, fighting him just a little because you could and you wanted to.

“Sweetheart… please. I can practically taste you from here, don’t tease me.” he asked, laying his cheek against your folded knees.

You laughed, loosening your muscles to let him have you. He took his time, and somehow, you found you were not surprised. Everything about him was gentle and sweet, even for a one night stand. He was not overly eager just to get himself off, and the thought sent heated butterflies through you unexpectedly. You couldn’t imagine him being anything but wonderful to anyone he shared a bed with, no matter how long.

His lips were pressing chaste kisses against your inner thigh and you gasp when his fingers were suddenly there, slowly running through your folds. You whimpered, hearing him speak something softly but not sure of the words.

Junmyeon hummed happily at the feeling of your arousal so easily coating his fingers. He used two skillfully, parting you and running the flat of his tongue up to your clit.

Your body melted and a cry sprung from your chest. His assault was not slow, lapping at your nerves and living off of the sounds you were emitting, put on a platter for his delightful tongue to indulge upon.

He twisted his wrist, slowly sinking one finger into your heat and you absolutely keened. The coil in your abdomen tightening suddenly and you were panting out “Yes, please, more.” before you even thought about the words.

A dark chuckle reached your ears from between your legs and Junmyeon fingered you with just the right amount of curl to his fingertips. Somewhere in your pleasured bliss, the thought that he was in no way even moderately inexperienced floats in your mind. It wasn’t your place to care, but you were glad that he knew what he was doing.

The sound of his mouth on you had you inching closer and closer to paradise already. He pulled his hand back and slowly concentrated on adding a second, pleased to find you were ready enough to take both easily.

“Such a good girl.” he praised, sucking your clit harshly.

You cursed, “Junmyeon…” You were hyper-aware that your face was on fire. Is it even possible to feel yourself blushing in your eyeballs?

You could feel him smile against your core, his hair mussed from your fingers. He hummed in response, increasing his pace just to hear you whine loudly.

“So close, Junmyeon…” you huffed, your thighs on either side of his head beginning to tremble. You felt impossibly tight, abdomen curling in on itself with your fist in the linens at your side.

The handsome man between your legs never stopped, only pausing to praise you further when he feels your walls beginning to tighten around his fingers, “That’s it. Come on, sweetheart.”

It was all it took when he stood up and braced one arm on the bed to lean over you. His thumb replaced his tongue on your clit and the awed expression on his face put you over the edge.

Your voice was a mixture of a cry and a moan, teeth clenched and thighs quaking. Your hand reached out, clasping around his forearm and holding on while his fingers worked you through your orgasm.

“Fuck you’re so fucking pretty when you come.” he growled, kissing the side of your neck and nipping at the flesh.

Once you relaxed, he pulled his fingers from you and watched his own hand with rapt fascination until you broke him from his thoughts.

“Junmyeon…” you cooed, a happy smile on your lips. “Want you,” you clarified when he looked up at you.

“Good girls get what they want. How can I deny you when you say my name like that?” he said, cocking one eyebrow at you and yanking his own pants to the ground.

You had seen your fair share of nicely shaped men with nicely shaped appendages, but nothing quite as nice as Kim Junmyeon. The abs were free for all to see, but his thighs and what was standing at attention between them was another experience entirely.

Not the biggest out there, but for his stature you would definitely call him well endowed, which was more than enough for you. He was flushed there, too, his member a darker shade than the rest of his golden skin. Neatly trimmed hair framed the base.

He reached immediately for the box on the nightstand, tearing one packet off the line of them. “Sorry they’re not fun ones. I wasn’t sure if you were allergic so I played it safe.” he said, focusing on rolling it over himself in one motion.

You didn’t mean to laugh but why were you absolutely not surprised that he was the caring type. The type to, while thinking about fucking a stranger for a one night stand, took into consideration a potential allergy while making a condom selection.

“I’m not, but thanks for checking. You’re too sweet.” you said, still a little high from your orgasm.

“I can’t help it. I take care of eight brothers for a living…and I sing once in a while.” his answering smile was sheepish.

You tucked away his statement for later discussion. You knew he was so much more than that, but it would ruin the moment and you admitted to yourself you really just wanted to get lost in pleasure with him.

So instead, you assured him, “I don’t need you to take care of me right now. I need you to _fuck_ me.”

Junmyeon was stunned, one hand holding your hip and the other his cock. His eyes were hooded and they closed as he let out a deep breath, swallowing hard. You had an inkling your words affected him in the best possible way.

“I think I can do that.” he said just as you felt the head of him rub against your wetness, lubricating himself further before pushing in without any further words.

You groaned loudly, a pleasured hiss filling the space between you. “ _Fuck._ ”

He was still, biting his lip with his eyes half closed, trained on you. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths while he fought to remain still.

“I’m okay.” you told him, rotating your hips against him with your lips dropped open.

Your eyes zeroed in on his face, tongue poking out to run across his pretty lips before he slowly withdrew himself from you, only to slide in again.

He repeated the motion, grabbing your leg and hoisting it up, over his shoulder. His arm wrapped around it to keep you against him tightly, and he turned his head just enough to kiss your calf where it rested beside his head.

Junmyeon leaned heavily into you while he thrust, slowly testing which angle is best to bend you for your mutual pleasure. How far could he bend you so you would feel him as deeply as possible.

When he hit the right one, you cried out, pleasure soaking your features. He groaned above you, sinking his cock into your greedy heat with a force that you absolutely basked in.

“Yes, yes, _please_ , just like that.” you begged. His wolfish grin returned, all white teeth and dark brows. Darker eyes, hooded, and pretty pink lips.

The pretty pink blush that paints his skin matched, you thought. You watched him move in pleasure, a vein becoming prominent on the side of his neck. The sight of him like this made your stomach tighten again.

He groaned again, feeling you clench around him. It was in that moment, with his hips digging into the underside of your thighs, that he bent you completely. Large hands pushed your thighs down into your chest and it changed the constriction of your walls around his cock.

“Is this okay?” he mused through his breath. Uncertain if your increase in pleasure was from the angle or happiness at his devotion to bedroom equality, but you moaned regardless, nodding at him. It was too difficult to speak with your chest being constricted like that.

He smiled, whipping some misplaced hair from his eyes. “Good girl.”

You whimpered at his words and your hands wrapped around your own legs, keeping them in his requested position. Now freed, he brought a hand between your bodies. You could feel his palm and fingers splayed against you, your center clenching with white hot pleasure when his thumb pressed into your clit.

Junmyeon didn’t slow his thrusts. Instead, his head was turned down, focusing intently on the image of his cock disappearing into the tight, hot wetness of your pussy. His lips were dropped open and his jaw was tight.

His chest and abs were tight, too, heavy breaths pushing from his lungs in a pant.

Suddenly, he sped up. It pulled a moan from you. Too quickly now the orgasm you had slowly seen coming from a distance was closing in, sinking deep into your gut like lead.

“I want you to come all over my cock, sweetheart.” he confessed hotly, increasing his efforts to make you do so.

Your answering whine was a confirmation that he might just get his wish. His hips slowed a little against you. Your eyes caught his tongue poking out as he swiped his thumb against it. It added more wetness against your bundle of nerves when he brought it back to circle repeatedly.

Junmyeon teased you now, nearly pulling himself out all the way so only the head remains, shallowly thrusting into you in a lazy manner. He was grinning down at you, but you could plainly see the battle in his rigid posture that he was enjoying teasing but desperate to be buried back inside your warmth.

Your gut felt heavier, the spiral coiling tighter in your abdomen. “ _Junmyeon…_ ” you whimpered at him, your core fluttering with how nearly empty he had left you.

“Yes?” he asked, one brow tilting up at you. His eyes pulled up to your face and he smiled genuinely at your fucked out expression.

You tried to speak words but they came out jumbled, a hot mess of incoherent letters that Junmyeon assumed meant you were going to come soon by the way your thighs were begging to tremble just so. You had spread yourself wider in an attempt to welcome him closer to you.

He removed a hand from your leg, letting it carve a scorching path up your body to pluck at your newly freed breast again. He rolled your nipple between his fingers and the yelp you released made him chuckle. You did not mean to blush harder, but his voice stirred the lava in your belly hotter.

Junmyeon bit his lips, groaning, “You’re so sensitive here,” he commented, teasing the nipple again just to hear you cry out, “I like that.”

The pleasure became too much for you to stave off any longer, and you froze up in his arms with a high pitched cry. He grunted, burying himself to the hilt and releasing a long moan. He released your clit from the torture of his thumb.

The pace he set immediately is hard, forcing himself between your walls, releasing tiny pants of breath for every powerful squeeze around his aching cock.

“ _Fuck, fuck fuck_ sweetheart. Yes, _fuck… yes._ ” the words dropped from his lips in erotic praise had you twisting, the unbearable pleasure overstimulating your body.

Junmyeon became uncoordinated, grabbing your ankle and opposite hip to keep you still beneath him. “You can take it.” he growled, teeth clenched and moaning between his bitten lips. His brows furrowed hard as he drove into you repeatedly with messy thrusts. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath or that there was a tick in his jaw. You realized, as he fought to deny himself his high, he looked angry.

The glutton for punishment in you sighed, clenching once more around him with aftershocks of your own orgasm subsiding. That put him over the edge, spilling all of his breath into the air between you at once. He threw his head back, thrusting one, two, three more times before he went as deep into you as possible and stilled.

Junmyeon’s head rolled forward on his shoulders, those pretty lips open in fucked out bliss. You wanted to kiss him, badly. His flushed chest was heaving and he shuddered visibly, eyes screwed shut in bliss.

Slowly he sunk into your body, curling himself over you as the pleasure peak left his body weak. He wasn’t looking at your face, but you were staring at him. You kissed the tip of his nose and smiled, watching as he lifted his head to stare right back with a smile so pretty you could almost blame it on your shortness of breath.

You whimpered when he pulled his softening cock from you, and the full warmth of it with him. Unmoving, you watched him remove and tie off the condom before disposing of it in the waste bin beside the armchair.

He crawled back to the bed, scratching at his chest. Your eyes met and you both smiled. You knew you should leave but was it over? Did he need a few minutes to recover? Did he hate it?

Junmyeon was watching you field these questions in your head, deciding instead to just pull your relaxed body to him.

You began to speak, but he shushed you with a mellow kiss, “Thank you for that.”

“ _Oh._ ” is what came out, instead of anything useful. Your bewildered expression made him laugh against you.

“What?” you tried, pouting.

He handled you into a comfortable position, situating your body against his side and pulling your arm over his stomach. Absentmindedly, your fingers felt right at home running softly across his abs. “I don’t think you were expecting me to thank you?” he questioned with a scoff.

“No, I just… well I don’t know. This is always the confusing part. Do I leave, do I stay? Do you want to do it again, will you marry me?” You were both laughing at the ridiculousness of the last question.

“Don’t laugh, I’ve been asked that question immediately after sex before.” you said, digging your fingers into his ribs. It only made him laugh harder.

“I wasn’t going to ask you that.” he hummed.

“Good. I won’t have to break your heart when I say no.”

He balked, feigning hurt, “You would say no?!”

“I mean, celebrity or not, we did just meet today.”

“It’s not a no, though…” you heard him trail off.

You patted his chest with the flat of your hand, giving him your best fake smile, “It’s still a no, sweetie.”

You both laughed again, and he kissed your hair with a sigh, “For now, just rest here with me, if that’s okay?”

There was something in his tone that told you he was lonely, and suddenly some of his earlier comments came rushing back to you. It hurt your heart to think about. You could read between the lines, he was saying he didn’t want to be alone.

“It’s,” you paused, looking to the digital clock on the charging station beside the bed, “five eighteen in the morning. I don’t have to be at class until eleven forty.” Suddenly, you gasped, raising yourself on your elbow to stare at him, “Do you think I’ll make it on time?”

Junmyeon lost it, snorting loudly. He pulled you back down and kissed your face before wrestling you to curl against him again.

So you relaxed. Lazily, both too tired to get up or clean up. Instead, you found your eyes closing as you listened to his steady heart beating within his rib cage. Your palm felt the gentle rise and fall of his stomach with his breath. You didn’t realize how calm and warm it made you, pulling you deeply into slumber. You hadn’t fallen asleep this easily in so long.

You jolted awake by the sound of a notification from your phone. Looking around, you noticed it’s nearly nine in the morning. There was just enough light from the dull, cloudy December morning to assist your eyes. A shiver ran through you when you remembered you were naked. Your eyes snapped to the side, realizing Junmyeon was still sound asleep with one arm behind his head, the other flat against the linens at your back.

You felt like you should go. It was not too early to get a cab back to your apartment and he probably wanted you gone by the time he woke up, anyway. It was just casual sex and a nap. Too bad you didn’t get to have a second go at it.

Quickly and as quietly as possible, you dressed, hunting for each piece and throwing it on haphazardly. Without turning on the light, you checked your hair in the bathroom mirror, stuffing it all into a cap you brought in your overnight bag.

Your phone pinged again. Checking, it’s two text messages, both from Soohyun.

**SH: I hope you made it home safe????**

**SH: I just got up and realized you hadn’t messaged me. I don’t care about the deets, I just need you to tell me you got home, Y/N.**

You smiled, keying in a quick reply.

**Y/N: I’m fine. I am leaving his hotel now, should be home by nine thirty.**

One last look over your shoulder at the sleeping idol sent you on a roller coaster of emotions you normally did not get with such detached partners.

It was a one night stand, nothing more and nothing less. Just two mutually attracted parties releasing their sexual frustration upon one another.

But… you had never stayed to sleep with any of your past escapades, as few and far between as they might be. You had never been made to feel like you were an equal participant. You had never felt so light afterwards that you were comfortable enough to sleep.

You had never been paid so much attention and not just a warm pussy for someone to lick and then stuff their dick into, no matter how good they fucked. You had never been treated like they were generally interested in caring who you are as a person, and you had certainly never connected with someone where it all felt natural. Not in a long time and never with a one night stand.

Junmyeon was different, and you thought about how grateful you were for last night during your ride home. You don’t know why you felt sad. Not for yourself, but for him. It hurt to know, now that it was over, how badly he craved to not feel lonely.


	2. Chapter 2

You groan aloud, frustrated with reading the same paragraph three times over but not absorbing what is written. Not even enough to pretend that you understand.

Originally, you had thought that getting some fresh air and studying outside on this beautiful April day would help you. Instead, it was distracting. Like there was something calling for you to look around, but not dangerous. Like you might miss something if you don’t look up every five seconds.

However, your headphones are comfortable over your ears as you listen to your favorite instrumental study playlist, pencil tapping the thick pages of your open textbook in your lap as you go. _Just focus!_

This class was putting you through it, you couldn’t wait for the semester to be over finally. Only five more weeks. You sighed, pouting your lips out and taking a swig of your water before diving back into the text willfully.

You’d been at it for nearly two hours now. The sun was stretching to its peak overhead just as your stomach grumbled. You tell yourself if you can make it through the end of this chapter, you would call it a day and get yourself a late lunch.

Somehow, a testament of your willpower, you plowed through the end of the chapter in ten minutes, writing notes, scribbling passages down, highlighting and marking related information within the chapter with a variety of cat shaped sticky tabs.

You were pleased with yourself, closing your eyes and smiling at a particularly wonderful melody as you let your head roll back to feel the sun on your face and stretch your neck.

A content, productive sigh left your body feeling much better. You were totally going to reward yourself with the largest, most expensive coffee you could afford. Rolling your head back to your notes, you opened your eyes.

A pair of feet immediately caught your attention. Black, white and red Nike airs, and expensive looking ones at that. Your head snapped up to see, and standing before you was the last person you expected.

Kim Junmyeon.

Your breath caught in your lungs and suddenly the air of relaxation you had worked so hard for is stolen away and your heart is swept into your throat with the wreckage.

He’s casual but still devastatingly handsome. With ripped blue jeans, a faded charcoal tee and an impressively oversized yellow plaid flannel, he looks the epitome of chic but functional and not at all like a huggable boyfriend, you remind yourself. He’s wearing a black bucket hat to hide his eyes. His eyes that are staring directly at you.

The expression panting his face is passive. Passive… but also curious. Passive… but also a bit worried. Passive… but also a bit, something else.

You smile at him, letting your headphones fall around your neck and fixing your hair, “Hello.”

A grin tucks itself into the corner of his mouth automatically at the sound of your voice. “Hello to _who?_ ”

Laughter falls from your lips at his inquiry, “Hello, Junmyeon.”

He tsked, “Still think you know me, huh?” You’re almost afraid he means it, until he squeezes himself into the minuscule space where you’ve left the bench empty of your school work.

“I mean…” you trail off, averting his gaze with a blush. He is happy with your reaction, an honest smile curling his eyes into crescents as he looks around the park, taking in the springtime view. Momentarily, while his gaze is absent, you study him. He looks healthy and well.

“I can see why you chose to study out here, its peaceful.” he comments, “I hope I’m not interrupting? It looked like you were finishing up a few minutes ago.”

“You were watching me study?”

He laughs boyishly at your expression, “Perhaps I was.”

You scoff at him, shutting your books and shoving them back into your bag one at a time, “That’s not _weird_ or anything.”

He blushes, hesitating for a moment with those pretty eyes going wide and lips pouting, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself, you were distracting me.” Junmyeon puts on a dignified air, insisting you are the cause of interruption.

You laugh loudly into the air, “Oh, you’re one to talk, mister idol!” Leaning closer you whisper, “How are you even out and about right now without paparazzi and fans all over you? _That’s dangerous, you know._ ”

He grins like a cat, eyes darting around you as if there’s some trick he has to it that he doesn’t want to expose. “I’m fine, I do this all the time.” but the smile fades a fraction as he continues his explanation, “I’m not nearly as popular or easy to spot as some of the others. I don’t stick out like a sore thumb like Chanyeol or Jongin do.”

Before the words can be mulled over, they’re tumbling out of your mouth, “I don’t think that’s true. You’re always the first one I notice.”

Junmyeon stills, blushing as his brows fly into his hairline. He wasn’t expecting you to say that, but the tone of your voice compelled him to believe it. “Thank you.”

You grumble, refusing to meet his eyes and instead scratching at your cheek, “You’re welcome.”

Just before he can say anything else or the tension can grow, your stomach protests audibly between you. Embarrassed heat floods your cheeks and you both laugh.

“I think your stomach is done with studying.” Junmyeon quips with that grin tucked into his cheek again.

“You don’t say.” you deadpan in return.

“Feisty today are we!” he goads, standing up as you do. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and rocks back and forth on his heels with a smile full of white teeth, his eyes downcast to your face with an amused tilt to his lips.

“Just frustrated by this stupid class. It’s almost over.” you explain, hauling your bag over your shoulder. Very naturally, he falls into step beside you as you walk the gravelly path toward the exit.

He hummed, something you remember he did often to fill the silence the last time you were with him, just over four months ago. You remember with a shiver, back when he had his tongue delving between your thighs. You remember with a frown, back when you left his warmth at the end of your shared pleasure. Back when you realized just how lonely he was, and how guilty you felt leaving him alone in his bed on a cold and dreary December morning without so much as a thank you.

You become absorbed in your thoughts, questioning why then has he sought you back out? Why, when he could have just as easily ignored you and passed you by, was he going out of his way to walk with you?

Why did you feel connected to him? Why did you notice, even before meeting him in person so abruptly all those months ago, the way he wore his heart on his sleeve? Why was it so easy for you to see the stress he was under and the emotions and words he couldn’t express on television so plainly written across his handsome face? Why could you feel the sadness emanating from him?

Focus! It was no big deal. It was casual, totally nonchalant. You tell yourself right here and now in your head that you are not going to be hung up on it. You let it go months ago. You were not responsible for his feelings or his actions involving you or not. You remind yourself that you’re not heartless.

You don’t have the time to get involved like that and neither does he. You don’t have the time to give the thoughts attention and you feel ludicrous for even thinking about what ifs involving him. So you don’t. Now, however, with the warmth of his skin radiating hot enough that you can feel it through your denim jacket, those thoughts spark to life once more like moths to a flame.

The guilt that you shouldn’t even be feeling is back and you cannot help but wonder, was he upset with you that day? If he was, then why has he sought you back out again?

No, you know the answer. You knew it the moment you saw his face. The moment you saw the flashes of curiosity and delight and worry and hurt fleetingly brush his lovely features only to disappear so quickly you question if they had ever even come at all.

Junmyeon speaks, his tone light and curious, “Do you mind if I tag along? I’ll buy.” He is pointedly not looking at you, instead keeping his eyes trained on the gravel he gently digs the tips of his shoes into it to fling pieces of it across the expanse.

You keep walking, but are glad for his questions so you can get out of your head. You don’t want to stop and discuss your confusion on this entire situation. Loudly, your stomach protests once more, appealing to his request.

“I don’t mind, but you don’t need to buy my lunch.”

“But may I, please?” he looks at you from the corner of his eye as you move, “Think of it as payment for my request for your time.” His visage is genuine this time, but you don’t miss the way he holds his breath as you pass through the wrought iron gate.

“If you’re insisting.” you smirk in return. You think you really do enjoy his company and conversation, regardless of the prospect for more when you last met.

“I certainly am.”

“You choose then?” you challenge, both of you pausing outside the gate before he decides to go left, toward the busier part of town.

You cough, adjusting your bag on your shoulder, “Aren’t you worried, even a little, about being spotted out with me?” You can’t help nervously fidgeting with your hair, tucking it back and then fluffing it around your face to give you some sort of shield.

He hums again, “No, not really.” then shrugs, “If it somehow circulates, it wouldn’t be a lie to say we’re just friends, right?”

Your face falls, but you don’t let him see it. “Uh… _right._ ” Just be casual. What did you expect? You slept together on the premise of a one night stand, with no intention of continuing that relation whatsoever.

But, here you are with him. Feeling his calm warmth wash over you, pulling you toward him with some invisible magnet that you can’t understand. It still feels natural, as if, perhaps, you really are just friends going for lunch.

_Friends who fucked once._

Silence follows, but you don’t get the feeling he is uncomfortable. Just the opposite in fact, seeming to buzz with excitement in his step, a happy tune wafting from his nose as he leads you to the row of restaurants and cafes near the busiest district in the city.

“I hope you’re hungry,“ he says “because we’re having sushi.” Suddenly, his big brown eyes are staring at you. His genuine personality is refreshing, but takes some time to get used to.

You give him a warm smile in return, “Sushi? I’m a college student, I live off of coffee and cheap eats for a living.”

“Fair enough, but I’m buying, remember?” he pouts, side-eyeing you.

You mouth waters and you hold up a hand in defeat, “No protest here. That sounds delicious, I was just saying.”

Junmyeon titters and pauses his stride, nudging you softly with his shoulder to go toward the crosswalk at the corner, refusing to remove his hands from his pockets.

“Excellent. It’s right there.” he tosses his head to a window fronted place you have seen a handful of times but never ventured into. It looked relatively low profile, with a plain black paint job and a wooden sign, accented with industrial steel fixtures.

Junmyeon holds the door open for you before following you inside and shuffling with you toward the counter. “What kind of drink would you like?” he asks.

Your eyes flick briefly to the menu board above your heads, “Uh, just an americano is fine, thank you.”

“Alright, go pick a table. Are you cool with an assortment?” he asks, his hands gesturing around with the question. You answer with an enthusiastic nod of your head.

He put his hand on your back, guiding you to leave the line and find a seat. The heat radiating from his palm soothes the otherwise electric shock that ran down your spine at his touch.

You think it’s best to shake it off, instead busying yourself with choosing the perfect table. Somewhere deep into the cafe, with tall backed plush booths and dimmed overhead lighting. Away from the windows, with wall sconces of light filtering more clearly at each table, creating a warmer, cozy atmosphere.

You tuck this place away in your head for future study locations, especially during the winter. Only when you can afford it, of course.

Just as you finished making yourself comfortable, Junmyeon rounds the bar with a tray in his hands. He’s grinning again, setting the tray down with an eager kind of delight before dolling out the the chopsticks.

Your coffee smells amazing, and the roll portions are a good size, too. “I hope you like it.” he chimes, moving the tray out of the way and breaking his chopsticks.

“Thank you for this.” you say, meaning every word, “It looks amazing.”

His reply, “It tastes even better.” leaves a lingering thought in the air. _Was he implying…?_

There is no time to dwell on it any further when your stomach forces another opinionated gurgle upon your silence. Following his lead, you eat.

The food is delicious and you dine in relative silence. Occasionally, he asks you about your classes between mouthfuls of fish and rice.

“Wow, that’s impressive.” he claims.

“Me, or the sushi?” Your cheeky smile makes him laugh in return.

“ _Obviously_ the sushi.”

You nearly cackle, barking a laugh at his off the wall and unexpected answer and covering your mouth. After you calm down, he continues, “I’m serious though. That’s a lot on your plate for one semester.”

“Yeah, well, it has to get done.” Wow even the avocado is fresh.

“How much longer do you have?”

You swallow, “I graduate next spring, I hope. There’s a class I’ll need to finish, but only so many students get in every semester.”

Junmyeon takes a long pull from his own coffee, “I see.” followed with, “How about work? Are you still at the high profile gig?”

Popping another piece of roll into your mouth, you nod.

“Do you like it there?” he seems honestly curious, not just making small talk to fill the silence. He takes another bite of his meal while he waits for you to speak.

“I do. It pays well and it isn’t hard so I can really focus on my school work. Plus Soohyun is there, so…” you trail off with a blush, recalling the last time you spoke to Soohyun about Junmyeon.

He raises an eyebrow at you, “ _Soohyun… Soohyun._ ”

“The other server from that night.” you clarify, and you both know exactly what night you’re referring to.

“Sorry, I didn’t really notice anyone else.” he chuckles gently, wiping panko crumbs from his mouth with a napkin.

You mirror his expression, “Yeah, me either.” The air grows a little tense between you in the silence. It seems the tension between you is still mutual, thickening in the lull that settles over the meal between you.

There is an entire monologue going on in his head. Even with a mouth full of food from across the table, you can see the cogs working in his brilliant mind. The questions he asks himself and the puzzle he is trying to put together in his head with his brow knitted tightly.

You decide to give him some space and not make it weird. You busy yourself with a giant swig of coffee and it burns your tongue, but you swallowed and excuse yourself from the booth.

“I’ll be right back. I just need to use the restroom.” You provide, watching him. He only nods at you, rubbing the tip of his chopsticks over his bottom lip.

When you return, his gaze snaps to yours with a certain kind of slow intensity, but he remains silent until you are back into your seat.

Just before you can pluck another piece from the Spicy Girl roll between you, he speaks, “Are you free today?”

You don’t move, instead eyeing him, “I am. Why?” There is an unease settling in your stomach, and you’re retracting your chopsticks from the platter, empty.

“Would you” he begins, laughing at his own bashfulness and scratching at his cheek, “Would you like to come back with me?”

There it is. You can’t help but feel like you shouldn’t. You know it would feel the same as it did last time once it was over, if not worse. You don’t want to have your thoughts occupied by him when you should be focusing. When he was only a temporary lover. When he isn’t yours to think about or have feelings for. That’s cruel to do to yourself.

“Junmyeon, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You whisper, eyes dropping to his pouted lips.

His brow knits again and he looks upset, like he wasn’t expecting you to say that. He folds his hands in front of him and smiles aporetically down at the last few pieces of food, “Was it that bad?”

Your chest constricts painfully at his question. “Of course not! That has nothing to do with it.” Your eyes dart around the space outside the booth for prying eyes. It’s the perfect time, after lunch but before dinner, so there are nearly zero patrons.

"Do you regret it?” He bites out as politely as possible, schooling his scowl into a neutral vacancy.

“No!”

Junmyeon huffs and busies himself with turning the table tablet toward himself and gently swiping his back card.

You hate the silence, so you continue, not revealing the entirety of your reluctance but indulging him with half of the truth, “I like to think I’m not vain, and I’m not terrible to look at.” you stall, catching his eyes watching you as he pushes buttons and signs his name.

“But why me? I mean, look at me, I’m no ulzzang. Then look at you, you’re… you know, _you._ “ Your hands gesture at him in frustration, failing to find an appropriate single word to describe him.

“So?” he states incredulously, “Does that mean I can’t enjoy your company?” He chooses not to comment on your question of why.

You pout in return until an obscure, hellish thought enters your mind and your voice grows thick with whispered conviction, “I seriously hope you don’t think it’s because I’m easy.”

Junmyeon’s brows shoot up into his hairline and he looks at you in shock followed by hurt, but he doesn’t say anything. You realize immediately when your temper flared with the thought, you forgot that this is Junmyeon you’re talking to. You would never think that of him.

“I’m sorry. I… that was rude.”

“Don’t be.” he quips, resigning himself to stand from the table. You follow him back out into the breeze and he doesn’t seem to mind that you’re still beside him as he walks.

After one block of city streets, he whirls on you suddenly, “You’re sure I didn’t hurt you or something? You didn’t hate it?”

You shake your head at him, “Absolutely not. I enjoyed it very much.”

He removes his black hat for a moment only to run his hand through his hair aggressively and replace it on his head.

“ _Look,_ ” he starts, moving you both into a small shop alcove and out of the way for other pedestrians, “I know I’m not as great as my band members. But I-“

You cut him off sharply, “I don’t care about your band members, Junmyeon! I didn’t want to sleep with any of them that night and that hasn’t changed! Do you seriously think I’m settling for you because you’re the only one who gave me attention?”

He tries, “But Jongdae-“

Silenced again, you try to keep your voice level and not shout at him, but you are so angry at him for insinuating. “Is that _really_ what you think of me?” His expression is bewildered and confused. You’re both anxious, arguing on the streets of the city for all to watch.

The look of hurt he sees on your face makes him lean closer, “ _No!_ That’s not what I’m trying to say at all. I’m trying to say I’m sorry I’m not as good as them!”

Now you’re angry all over again, but for the opposite reason. You soften for him, letting your rage simmer, “Junmyeon. I don’t want you to apologize to me then. I want you to apologize to yourself for thinking that. I wish you would think better about yourself. Don’t you see how amazing you are?”

“How amazing _Suho_ is, you mean.” He bites in a low tone.

“ _Suho_ is a part of you. I don’t remember calling _Suho’s_ name that night. _Suho_ isn’t the one I wanted.” He frowns momentarily until you clarify further, “I wanted _Junmyeon_ that night. I wanted _you._ ” You jab a finger toward his chest to emphasize your point.

He breathes into your space, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows.

“Was it only for that night?” His voice is so soft, like the words might shatter if he said them with more force. It is easy to see he is bracing for you to say yes.

“Well, no.” you disclose carefully.

He smiles, “Then why not?”

“Because I still want you.”

Junmyeon lifts one brow, “…because you still want me?” he pulls back just enough to look at you completely, gauging your face.

You look to the ground. You are never good with this kind of thing. It’s why short term relationships or one night stands once in a blue moon are better for you. You fall too hard too fast and don’t know how to handle those emotions. You believe you’re naive.

“It’s not a good idea, because I still want you.” You take a deep breath, “Even if it’s not for keeps. Even if I know I shouldn’t. Even if I know it will hurt when it’s over and we go our separate ways tomorrow. Even if I know there’s no promise I might ever meet you again. Even,” you pause, looking up to him now, “Even if it’s just like this.”

Junmyeon is silent but his face is slack and softened.

“And that makes me feel crazy. We both said we never do this kind of thing because neither of us have the time. That’s all it was supposed to be.” Your arms curl around yourself, shrugging your shoulders and looking anywhere but his face.

He chuckles, bringing his hands to your sides and closing them into loose fists, resisting, before dropping them back into his pockets with a deep sigh.

“Then why shouldn’t we indulge when we get the opportunity?” he implores with a huff into the air above your head. “I couldn’t bring myself to just pass you by when I saw you earlier.”

You smooth your dress down against your legs idly, eyes focused on the collar of his yellow flannel.

The handsome man in front of you speaks again, quietly, “I would really like to kiss you right now, but we’re in public.” He pauses before adding, “I would really like to do other things, too, if you want to. Even if it will make it difficult tomorrow, because it would have been harder to swallow if I had just passed you by.”

You reach out, plucking a stray hair off of the sleeve of his shirt, flicking it away in the wind. You want to indulge him and you crave him just as you did the first time now that he is standing here within arms-reach and wanting you, too.

So you look him in the eye and ask what has been plaguing your mind since you left his bed that morning.

“Were you upset when you woke up that morning and I was gone?”

Junmyeon hesitates, watching you watch him in return. You keep the guilt from it locked away neatly when faced with him, and the honest, vulnerable way the word _‘yes’_ writes itself across his features makes your heart ache bitterly.

He doesn’t have to say the word for you to know. The expressive way he is looking at you, right down to your bones, is enough to make you understand that he sees you. Enough to make him understand that you see him, too.

Without much verbal debate, he guides you down the street and into a tall building. “Wave goodbye to me. Then go to the rest room.” He points to a crevice in the spacious lobby behind the escalator, “When you come out, there’s an elevator on the other side of the escalator. Go up to room fifteen on the eleventh floor.”

He smiles at you tepidly, too still and polite as if simply giving directions to a stranger. You’re confused by his sudden change in demeanor until you realize he is already dropping into his act and waving goodbye to you with both hands, turning away to head for the large main elevator to the left of the desk.

You wave back, albeit a little robotically since you’re not used to doing this so suddenly, before walking away to the right, towards the ladies room.

Given the opportunity, you might as well freshen up as best you can. You pull your dress down, attempting to flatten a few wrinkles and reapplying your lip balm.

As you exit and make your way up to floor eleven, you can’t fight the way your cheeks hurt from smiling. Your nerves are replaced with excitement today and a weightlessness you were not expecting to feel during this time of year. Not with the final for your hardest class creeping up quickly.

You knock only once before the door flies open and you’re being tugged inside. A cacophony of complaints are being tossed around the room as you enter. Junmyeon’s fingers around your hand are a warmth that makes you sigh.

What you are not expecting is Sehun. You supposed with an afterthought, your lover might not always get a room by himself; that might become expensive for their company.

The younger, taller boy is loud. Louder than you had ever seen him be, either in private dining or on stage. His complaints are centered around the inconvenience of being kicked from his own room at your expense and you suddenly feel sheepish when his eyes landed on you.

“Oh, it’s you.” He states plainly, and not exactly in the most pleasant tone. He raises one dark eyebrow in your direction, rocking back on his heels shortly before he moves past you with a disgruntled huff.

“ _Get out._ ” Junmyeon interrupts his staring, leaving you momentarily to unplug a phone charger from the wall and stuffing a pair of Sehun’s pajamas into his arms along with the cord, shooing the maknae toward the door.

“Hyung, this is so uncool.” Sehun moans, keeping his foot in the door as Junmyeon tries to shut it. His impatience makes you giggle.

Junmyeon sighs, turning toward you with a wide grin, “Y/N, do you think I’m lame?”

You laugh, covering your mouth to shake your head at Sehun’s frown, “I think you’re the coolest.”

Junmyeon truly smiles broader than you have ever seen before at your compliment, “Thank you, sweetheart. See? She thinks I’m cool. Now get out.” The threatening expression that drops over his handsome face at the younger man makes your stomach flip flop with desire. You think in the back of your mind how much you know you might enjoy it if he punished you with that face.

Sehun denies it, “Okay first of all- _gross._ Second, she doesn’t count!” before adding, “ _Yah_ , hyung you know I can’t sleep alone!”

“Go bother someone else. Minseok got a single this time, go sleep with him!” he orders before shutting the door completely.

Junmyeon turns back to you, a devilish smirk growing across his mouth.

“Sorry about that.” He says, turning sheepish. His hands gently pull you to into his embrace, mouths drawing closer, whispering, “I feel like a college kid kicking his roommate out.”

Your bubbling laughter against his mouth is cut short by his lips, soft but eager to press against your own.

The electricity immediately lights your skin, kissing him back with fervor. This time, the difference is not the awkward attempt to figure out how to kiss you. Junmyeon remembers just how to kiss you, licking hotly into your mouth to make you squirm in his arms. His tongue demands a space to pet against your own.

He hums, appreciating the flavor of your lips. Taking advantage, he licks, nips and kisses all of the newly applied balm from your soft pout.

His hands deftly guide you back a step, just enough to let your back touch the wall before they are trailing all over. Up the back of your arm to your neck, down to your breasts, across your hip to dig into your ass.

Your want for him grows impatient with his expert kisses and fleeting touches. All hot lava in your mouth but feathers against your skin. Your jacket is heavy and warm suddenly, too restricting for such an activity. Junmyeon can feel your frustration, releasing you momentarily and appreciating the way your chest bows out toward him as you reach behind yourself to yank each sleeve from your arm before you toss it onto a bed.

With a sigh you relax back against the wall, demanding he curl closer into you while his mouth plants kisses across your cheek to your jaw, to your ear, to the sensitive place just behind it. Your nails dig into his arms as he nibbles the soft flesh, sucking just enough to tease and not leave a mark.

You moan, tilting your head for him. The feeling of his smile spreading against your neck is nice, and he continues his path over your neck to your shoulder, wet open mouthed kisses planting seeds of desire along your skin. The action makes you hiss and shiver against the sturdy confines of his body.

His hands are bunching the fabric of your dress before he passes it all into one hand to slide his palm up the back of your thigh with the other. When his fingertips dip just under the edge of your panties to take a handful of your ass in his grip, he groans.

“Junmyeon.” You whine, picking up the same leg to put your knee at his hip. He takes your hint, stepping into you fully to hoist your limbs up and around his hips.

Neither of you care about the impatience, too busy remembering how good you feel against the one another. The instant relief of him pressed against your center coerces a moan, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.

He kisses you again, flexing his hips into your own against him, sighing into your mouth when you bring one hand down to pop the button of his jeans open. It’s a feat you aren’t sure how you managed.

“Like this?” he asks, hoping you catch his meaning.

The idea of it sends a shudder down your spine and you feel silly for asking him if he can manage it like this, so you don’t voice it.

Instead, “If that’s what you want.” You’re worried he might not be able to hold up all of your weight for the entire event.

Junmyeon grins against your lips, one hand leaving your ass as he pushes you further against the wall.

“Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.” He coos, struggling a little but ultimately freeing himself from his pants. The heat of him, heavy, hot and hard against your throbbing pussy has you sighing happily, gently swiveling your hips against him.

He chokes on a moan against your neck, settling you back against his lap and pulling the full weight of your behind into himself. Junmyeon chuckles huskily, feeling you tense up just enough for him to notice, "Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

A blush quickly spreads itself over your cheeks and you smile at him, “Okay.”

He kisses you. He is always kissing you, but hungrily this time, groaning into it as you bring a hand between your bodies to stroke the head of him.

Just as you’re slipping your thumb through the pre cum gathering at his tip, Junmyeon pushes you against the wall again, using his leverage to lock the crook of your knee and his elbow together. You hold on tighter when you realize he’s letting go.

It doesn’t last long. Only a moment is needed as he pulls your panties to the side roughly, letting one finger trail through your arousal with a long, unfiltered groan.

“So good for me, sweetheart.” he praises, adding, “So fucking wet. Is it all for me?” with a growl.

You keen, moaning at his words as a hot blush paints your ears. You realize you have a penchant for him like this. The angelic tenor of his voice whispering dirty words to you in such an intimate space has your cunt fluttering with a pang of emptiness.

“Tell me.” he demands, lubricating himself and rubbing your clit with the head of his swollen cock.

“ _Yes!_ ” you whine, trying to raise your hips against him to chase the friction and get him to move more.

“Good girl.” he whispers, pulling hard on your panties again and lifting you just enough to sink the entire length of himself all at once into your waiting heat with a strangled moan against your neck. The sound of his beautiful voice dripping with such pleasure has you shuddering in his arms.

“ _Fuck_ , ‘Myeonnie.” you mewl. Gravity is your best friend in this moment, aiding your weight to feel every inch of him inside of you. You relish in the stretch, flexing your hips as best as you can to match the pace of his conquest.

This isn’t the same kind of sex it was last time. Neither of you are taking the time to map and explore and remember each moment. Instead, you’re so hungry to feel one another again that he is driving into with a brutal rhythm, his biceps taught to keep you in his hold.

You’re vaguely aware your spine and shoulder blades are going to be sore tomorrow from the force of his thrusts, your bones digging into the unforgiving drywall behind you. You can’t be bothered to care right now. Not while the sight, sound and feel of Junmyeon fucking into you against the wall of his hotel room is happening. Not while he instructs you to rub your clit between your bodies with a growl and a furrowed brow. His pretty lips are wet and swollen, catching the light as they drop open or he bites them, stuttering out groans alongside particularly deep thrusts.

Everything in this space is turning you on. The light but present scent of his cologne mixed with the smell of sex. The humid, sticky dampness of his forehead pressed against your shoulder. His soft brown hair that will surely tickle your nose if you turn your head just a fraction. The rough fabric of his jeans rubbing at your behind, sure to leave some sort of burn if you’re not careful.

It spikes your pleasure higher knowing neither of you could wait long enough to properly remove your clothes. You try to time your stimulation with his thrusts, but he is burying himself into you with abandon, murmurs of praise and profanities pouring from his mouth as he takes you.

He straightens his back for a better angle, and you don’t think you’ll ever find his focused, furrowed brows unattractive. The way he is so intently fixated on the sight of his cock disappearing between your thighs is quickly becoming one of your favorite things about him. The way his cheekbones screw his face tight with pleasure. Perhaps burning that image in your head could be of use when you’re alone and desperate.

Reaching out, you use your free hand to ground yourself to him further, curling your fingers around his bicep. Feeling the solid muscle makes you squeeze him and he groans once more. He smiles, too, as his eyes flick up to catch yours. It is with that thought that you swat at his oversized flannel, pushing it to fall off of one shoulder just enough to let your fingers slide beneath the sleeve of his tee to feel his smooth skin.

Your orgasm is so close you have to close your eyes, focusing on the pleasure coiling tighter through you like a white hot knife. Junmyeon can feel it instantly, the way your body begins to tense around him. The way your pussy constricts its grip around his aching cock.

“That’s it sweetheart. Let me feel it.” he growls with pleasure, gritting his teeth and driving himself into you with a pace you don’t want him to falter.

You’re trembling, taken over by the reality of the situation. The flavor of it is one you are afraid you might become addicted to, heavy and sweet on your tongue with bliss. Your nails dig crescents into his arm and you hear him hiss. Watching him sweat and fuck you like he wants to possess you makes you fall over the edge.

You cry out, letting your head thud back against the wall as he chases you to completion. Even still, through his pleasure, he checks, “A-are you on… a contraceptive?”

Panting openly as you shake in his hold, you don’t respond. It feels so good, so fucking incredible. How can he even think clearly right now with your velvet heat beckoning him to join you in euphoria?

He groans, “Sweetheart _I-_ I need to… _fuck._ I _need_ to know.”

You nod weakly at him, barely choking out the word _‘yes’_ before his hips pick up speed, pistoning into you for a moment before he buries his face in your neck and moans, long and loud. His hips stutter, “ _Fuck_ , you… feel so good. I’m gonna come.”

His voice sounds desperately broken and you find yourself sweating suddenly at the words he whispers so close to your neck. His sounds of pleasure are music to your ears as he finds his release.

You moan softly right along with him, letting your fingers climb to the back of his neck to card gently through his hair. There’s an innate heat coupled with his full length blooming inside of you, and you swivel your hips to feel it more. Junmyeon delightedly shivers in your arms, gasping quietly while he regains his breath against your neck.

The space between you is without warning far more intimate and calm than it had been not thirty seconds ago. Only your mingled, ragged breathing froths in the air between you, chests still heaving with exertion as the last tides of adrenaline leave your veins.

Junmyeon turns his face just enough to plant a long, gentle kiss to the side of your neck. It makes your heart leap and flutter in your throat. He lifts his face, eyes searching for yours and he smiles when he looks at you. The expression on his face is beautiful. It is warm and glowing, further visualized by the tame afternoon sun filtering through the room and lighting the angles of his cheeks, lips and chin, the rounded tip of his nose, with a soft gleam.

It is in this moment that your heart disappears from your body altogether, stolen right from the safety of your chest with his stunning beauty. As if to mock you, you quickly remember that he is not yours and that it hurts to know you don’t get to wake up to this face every day.

Thankfully, Junmyeon doesn’t seem to perceive your crestfallen appearance. He only continues to smile at you coquettishly, embracing your limp body and leaning in to sample your lips slowly. As if you might believe he sees the same things in you. You wish that were the case, even though you know you shouldn’t.

He sighs happily at the feel of your lips, his own stretching thinner in a line against you when you protest against the feeling of him slipping from your core. Abruptly, he pulls your bodies from the wall, hands full of your thighs as he carries you to the bathroom.

Gently, he sets your ass on the cold granite of the sink and you yelp at the icy chill against your skin. Junmyeon laughs at your reaction, his grin tucking into the corner of his mouth when you sulk.

He spins away, busying himself with the faucet of the shower and stripping his clothes. He looks to you as he kicks off the last leg of his jeans, hopping to the side one pace when he almost loses his balance.

You can’t help but bark out a laugh at him, your fit of giggles becoming more obnoxious as he glowers at you with a pout.

There is no need for words in this moment. You’re both content to bask in the silence, communicating through your actions while he steps to you and helps lift your dress over your head. He tosses it behind him and reaches for you once more, letting the weight of his palms slide up your arms in a comforting manner.

Junmyeon pulls your shoulders to him lightly, enough that he can reach around and unclasp your bra for you while the softness of his lips touches against your hairline. He pulls the straps back down your arms for you, his fingers so mild against your skin. He is watching you with a spark of… _affection?_ in his eyes. A sudden slowness to paint himself a picture of your every atom in his mind like you’re made of stardust.

He steps back, giving you space to hop off the edge of the sink. Even though you feel wonderfully light and weightless, you can feel the cool stickiness of his release sliding down your thighs. You waste no time in slipping off your soiled panties and kicking them to their own corner of the room before you follow him into the steaming comfort of the shower.

Of course, he is gentlemanly enough to let you gorge on the brunt of the water first, instead content to run his fingers along the tops of your shoulders, the curves of your waist, the round slopes of your hips. Every scar and pock mark he can reach. Your first task is to clean yourself of the mess he made between your legs.

Now, you reach for the shampoo, opting to run your fingers through his hair with it, scratching the suds along his scalp. Junmyeon nearly purrs, but cocks one eyebrow and coyly lets you do as you please, amused by the playfulness in your eyes.

He does much of the same to you, twisting the strands of your hair with his fingers, frothing it with the shampoo before he lets you rinse. You yelp, giving him a quick glare and a wet slap to his chest when he plucks the bud of your breast while you closed your eyes to tip your head back under the spray.

Junmyeon laughs, trying to act like he didn’t do anything wrong under the scrutiny of your gaze.

You repeat the same series of motions, passing the small bottle of conditioner between yourselves. You force Junmyeon to switch places with you this time, refusing to rinse your hair first. He laughs loudly when you make a face and pass your own fingers over one of his nipples.

Slowly, the lightness of the moment and the sex wear off, evaporating from your skin with the steam of the shower. Monotonously, you let the wonderful man with you run his hands along your body, reveling in the tenderness of his silent task as he runs the soap around your figure. He doesn’t notice your shifting mood.

He doesn’t see the way your eyes climb his body and pause on his face, trying desperately to look into his head and burn every part of him into your memory. You were right all along, knowing just how much this was going to hurt both of you, but here you are, doing it anyway.

You can’t help but feel like it is ridiculous. You don’t love him, not by any means, but you wouldn’t say that you don’t think there’s an undeniable chemistry between you. You don’t deny how natural and good it feels when you’re with him, even fully clothed, stuffing your faces with sushi or sitting on a park bench and jesting. You don’t deny the way he makes your heart shake with some sort of feeling when he is looking into you as if he knows the map of your very soul. You don’t deny the crushing ache of it when you know you’ll leave and you have no guarantee you will ever meet him again.

Most of all, you don’t deny the crushing guilt of giving him these same memories, so cruel is your shared selfishness. The staggering weight of knowing how empty he will feel, just the same if not more than your own. His longing for companionship written so delicately in the way he is caring for you right now.

He is drawing out every pass of his fingers along your skin, his eyes blazing a path right behind his hands, taking you in. It squeezes the air from your lungs to imagine him tomorrow, or the day after that and the week after that, without someone to catch him. Without someone to hold him up when he is tired and stressed and unable to rest because of the unending weight upon his broad, weary shoulders. You know, without any trace of doubt, that he is strong. Very much so, but he is also human.

He shouldn’t have to suffer, and you are incredibly aware of his unspoken words. His body language, his tenderness, his focused movements against you and his pleading eyes. You are hearing the thoughts in his head that he doesn’t know how to verbalize, or can’t or won’t. It doesn’t matter, because you can hear them and see them and feel them with every second that dissipates between you.

Junmyeon gently pulls you out of your thoughts to coax you back under the heat of the water, swapping you to rinse while he washes himself with a tranquil smile.

You blink rapidly, willing away the thoughts plaguing you. You let the sting of the water soothe the ache settling in your shoulders, falling down your back in an endless wave of heat. When you’ve had enough you turn, raising your arms to let the water wash away the feeling of lead in your stomach. You will enjoy this, you chastise yourself with a frown. What’s done is done, you’ll already suffer, you tell yourself.

Junmyeon’s hands find your arms again, softly swaying you backwards just a little. His hands gather your hair and move it to one side as his lips find the back of your neck.

“Will you stay?” he asks quietly against the line of your shoulder.

Your heart sinks. Junmyeon can feel you tense up.

“I don’t know…” you begin slowly, letting your head hang, wishing the pitter patter against your scalp were loud enough to drown out your spinning thoughts.

He sighs, turning you in his hold. You feel the shame wash over you, the comforting heat of the shower not enough to stop the icy shiver your body responds with. He doesn’t force you to meet his eyes.

“Why?” You applaud his strength. His ability to keep his feelings from seeping into his voice as he simply questions.

“Because this will hurt enough tomorrow without staying.” Your words are clearly heard and Junmyeon pauses, letting them sink into his ears. He makes a sound akin to sucking his teeth.

This time, his hand rises and he pauses again with his fingers outstretched toward your chin. You can tell he is uncertain now if he should even touch you.

“You keep saying that.” he states carefully before deciding to be selfish enough to make you look at him. His hold is still calm as he lifts your chin, tilting his own face down to catch your eyes when they refuse to lift from his neck.

He continues, “You said you didn’t regret it, so why do you say it hurts?”

You don’t answer him right away, gritting your teeth behind your closed lips.

He doesn’t let up, “Was it not good enough to outweigh this hurt you keep feeling?”

Your eyes snap to his fully, watching his frustrated expression morph into one of sadness. He is staring at you, uncaring about the water dripping from his hair into his eyes.

“Because how can I enjoy it so much that I don’t care about how lonely you will be?” you say quietly, your brow furrowing up at him.

“We’re not supposed to get _attached._ ” you whisper. Your head suddenly feels too heavy for your shoulders. You let it fall to his sternum, thumping against it softly.

“I’m not heartless, Junmyeon. I can’t keep doing this when you look at me like I’m filling the void in here.” you say, nudging his chest more with your head for emphasis.

Junmyeon is still. You can feel his heart steadily in his chest, but he doesn’t move. You feel more than see him laugh softly after a long moment.

He doesn’t move your head from his chest, but you can feel the vibrations of his voice when he asks, “How could I possibly by lonely when the world is watching me? When I have a family of brothers and millions of fans supporting me?”

You stand up straight, letting your fingers trace the hardened divets of his abdomen, “ _Suho_ might not be lonely, but _Junmyeon_ is.”

He doesn’t fight you on it, but his face shifts into something perhaps… _scared?_ Afraid you’ve exposed some great secret he never intended to have revealed. He looks at you like just maybe you are right, having broken through any lines of his well crafted defense in one instant, without knowing it or trying at all, and that scares the shit out of him.

A second passes between you and you smile sadly at him. Reassuring, as if to say his secret is safe with you, and he is smitten. He is safe.

His head dips and he captures your lips in a kiss too sweet for the ones you shared only minutes ago. You wrap your arms around his middle, tugging him back under the water to let him rinse and relax.

He smiles against your lips at the gesture. Your fingers splay against his stomach, and his charming personality is back. He lets you in. Your heavy thoughts are swept down the drain with the water as he watches you.

“What about you, then? Aren’t you lonely, too?” he challenges.

Your smile is tepid, but his light is infections and you find your spirit lifting from its grave, “Sometimes.”, you nod.

He grins, “You didn’t miss me at all?”

The tone of his question has a laugh lifting from you, as if it would be absurd not to, “…Maybe a little.”

He laughs along with you, grinning flirtatiously with wiggling brows, “Only when you _needed_ to, _right?_ ”

You don’t miss his insinuation, instead lightly punching him in the chest.

“ _Hey_ , I-!” he shouts happily, seizing up to block your fingers from pinching his pectoral.

“Well, you didn’t answer.” he says after a moment, running his palms over his face and slicking back his hair with perhaps a little too much showy muscle flexing.

You blush at how good he looks with one simple move. Junmyeon doesn’t miss the opportunity to tease you, knowing full and well what he is doing and how much it’s starting to turn you on.

“Go ahead, I could use the ego boost.” he chides.

Your mouth drops open, incredulous as you speak, “ _Yah_ , maybe I should never compliment you if you’re going to be a little shit about it!”

Junmyeon howls, his eyes closing in happy half circles as his head dips back with laughter. He is still laughing when an idea pops into your head. You’ll put him back in his place.

You sink to your knees, hands grabbing at his thighs as you kiss the angles of his hips.

He jumps, nearly choking on water as he gasps.

It only takes a moment of your heated eye contact and dangerous palms for him to twitch to life. Your lips never stop their random patterns against his stomach, his hips, his thighs. Everywhere except where he needs you until he shifts.

His body angles, back bent over with one arm leaning against the tile as he shields you from getting water in your eyes. You look up to him before you touch, your mouth hovering at his groin, less than an inch away from him.

His eyes drop, barely open when you lick your lips deliberately. His own follow suit, dropping open with a groan as you give one tentative lick, grasping the base of him with one hand.

You smile up at his reaction, giving a firm stroke and letting your lips envelope him. Softly, his hips stutter. Your remaining hand is against his thigh, strong enough to help keep him in place where you want him.

Junmyeon seems perfectly content to watch his cock disappear anywhere into you, but especially into your warm mouth, the melody of his pleasure pouring from his lips unlike anything you’ve ever heard.

You work him in a moderate rhythm for a few moments, letting your tongue swirl around his head and your teeth just barely graze along his member to have him hissing a gasp. His free hand finds its way into your hair, taking a gentle fist of it to take over your pace. You swat at him, pushing yourself away from him and pouting. You aren’t finished experimenting.

A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest. He understanding what you’re up to and releases your hair to drag his nails up the side of his own thigh instead. He sighs when you resume your feast upon him.

His unoccupied fist remains at his side, open palm running along his own body or clenching and unclenching at his side as you take him deeper into your mouth.

He moans deeply, throwing his head back and releasing all of the air in his lungs when your nose struggles to reach the soft plane of his abdomen.

“ _Fuck._ ” he breathes, his brows knitting together and you hum.

You relent for a moment to kiss the tip of him, letting your tongue collect the saltiness of his arousal before teasing him, sucking just around the head.

You let go, speaking, “Did you think of me, too?” The faltering stare he gives you tells you he definitely did.

He squirms, trying to bury himself back in your pretty mouth. When you don’t comply, instead grinning wildly at him, he pulls you up from the floor of the shower with a growl.

Junmyeon is riled up, and the stern look he sends you as he maneuvers you to bend against the wall has a shiver of pleasure rolling down your spine.

“Since you won’t take it all in that pretty mouth of yours, maybe you’ll take it all _here_ instead.” he whispers hotly against the shell of your ear, grabbing himself and rubbing the head of his cock through your folds.

You whimper in response, gyrating your hips back into his. One of his hands slides to your stomach, cradling you as be breeches your walls with a shallow thrust. Your hands shoot out to steady yourself against the wall.

Moaning, your head falls forward. He continues just like this, building a frustration in you with only the head of his delicious cock teasing you.

“It’s not nice to tease, sweetheart.” he comments, teeth pressing into your shoulder with just enough bite to make you hiss.

Willfully, you lift your head and crane your neck to speak, “You… you teased me, too!”

Junmyeon chuckles, his eye smile invading your peripheral. “I s-suppose you’re right.” he says, then slams the fullness of himself into you.

Your cry breaks into a moan at the delightful stretch.

“ _Shit_ …” he moans, “Is that better?”

You mewl, nodding at him. Abruptly, his fingers are sinking down from your abdomen to your clit, and he presses tight circles against it in time with his thrusts.

Goosebumps light along your arms with pleasure. Your chest heaves, nerve endings alight with every inch of him inside. He groans above you, his hips digging into your ass. It feels so much better without any clothes.

Part of you wishes you could see his face. See the way he bites his lips or grits his teeth to stave off his pleasure.

“ _Fuck,_ ” you hear him speak softly, followed by a moan, “ _so fucking good._ ”

You imagine he must be close, hearing it in the way his voice pitches and he whines lowly against your back.

“Sweetheart…”, you feel his forehead press against your back, “I’m not going to last, you feel too good.”

The idea of him losing his composure so quickly has you giggling, twisting your neck once more to smile at him. “It’s okay, I want you to come.”

The sweetness of his smile melts you. The pleasure he gives you feels wonderful, but you’re still recovering from your last earth shattering orgasm. You know he’ll make you come in other ways, so you push your hips back harder, clenching around him purposefully.

“ _Stay._ ” he kisses against your ear, panting breath fanning the side of your face with his plea, “Be _selfish._ I want you to stay.”

Junmyeon groans, suddenly pulling his cock from you and pumping himself furiously against the cleft of your bottom. His fingers are digging into your ass as you watch, best as you can when he comes on your back with a choked groan.

The evidence of his ecstasy disappears almost immediately, the now cooling water washing it away where it still rains against your bodies.

He slumps against you, softening cock still in hand.

“I’m sorry.” he starts, frowning just slightly. You never did answer him.

You laugh, turning around to kiss his pout away, “It’s alright. I’m cool with it.”

He’s leaning against the wall of the shower with his eyes closed, puffing out his cheeks while he regains his breath. He watches you from the corner of his eye, appreciating your figure standing under the cooling water, ensuring your back is rinsed clean.

Junmyeon recovers, pushing himself from the wall to reach behind you, turning off the water. You don’t remove yourself from his proximity, instead letting your arms circle under his arms with a sigh.

He holds you like this, closely in silence, until you shiver with the chill of being wet. He bends only enough to dip his head and kiss your cheek.

Your lover’s hair is sticking all over when he shakes his head before stepping out. He grabs both neatly hung, pristine white towels from the rod, passing one to you before he pats himself off with the other. You dry, but the dull throbbing of your core is uncomfortable. He watches you press your thighs together with a laugh.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” he announces.

The spark of his eyes hasn’t gone away and he licks his lips slowly, knowing you’re watching him do it. It doesn’t take much to imagine exactly what he has in mind.

You’re standing in front of the bed before you realize, with Junmyeon pulling on a pair of boxers before he’s drawing you onto the linens with him.

Momentarily, you’re confused by the position he takes, situating himself to lay on his back at the head of the bed.

“But?” you begin, tilting your head.

He grins at you, beckoning with his hands, “But what? I want to eat you out, sweetheart.”

A heated blush is scorching across your face quickly, “ _Oh._ ” You don’t move otherwise, remaining in your place at his side.

_He can’t mean…?_ You’re happy to let him have his way with you, but sitting on someone’s face is a fear you’re not ready to face. A door you’re not ready to open or acknowledge. Even if you’re happy with your body, you’re still the weight of an entire person sitting on someones only source of air. You’ve always been afraid to try and frankly, turned off by the idea.

“Come here… please?” he tries.

“ _Junmyeon_ , I- I can’t.” you panic, looking around the room.

He immediately understands he’s touched something he wasn’t supposed to and he backpedals. His spine comes off the bed so quickly you’re sure he’s broken it, briskly pulling you against his frame.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You pull his head, burying his face in your chest and hugging his shoulders tightly.

You can hear him softly, muffled by your bosom, “I don’t ever want to make you uncomfortable.” He squeezes your body in return.

“I’m okay. You didn’t know.” you declare quietly.

He lifts his head from your skin, “If you lay down can I still eat you out? I want to, but if you don’t want it that’s okay, too.”

You could cry at how sweet he is. Too attentive. Too affectionate and caring and worried to just be an occasional fuck buddy, or multiple night stand. To be whatever it is you are with him.

You will yourself to relax from the sincerity of him alone, and you can’t deny there’s still an ache of slick wetness at the apex of your thighs. Nothing has to be said as you simply release him to make yourself cozy against the pillows, perhaps only a tiny bit fidgety.

Junmyeon grins at you, delicately parting your thighs and keeping his eyes on yours as he sinks to his stomach, lining his face with your heat.

“Just relax, I’ll make you feel good.” he coos, kissing each word into your hip. You hold your breath for just a second, releasing it at once with a long moan when the flat of his tongue runs, heavy and leisurely through your folds.

He hums his approval, tasting you lasciviously, as if he might never get to do so again.

Your head tips back, eyes fluttering shut and your hand creeps into his hair, encouraging him further with a scraping of your nails through his wet locks.

Junmyeon moans salaciously, scooping his hands underneath to palm your ass, pushing you further against his face as he wreaks havoc upon your clit, sucking, licking, nipping you between his lip covered teeth.

Every flick of his devilish tongue has you grinding further against him, moans of his name falling from your lips when his head dips further and he releases your bottom, putting his thumbs to better use as he parts you even more.

Not one second is wasted as he uses the space created to spear his tongue into your aching cunt and undulate it against the parts of your walls he can reach. He licks into you not unlike blissful fire. One thumb brushes your pearl of nerves where his nose doesn’t quite reach.

You’re beginning to tremble, writhing on the bedding as he gorges himself on you without relent. He drives you higher, grunting when your fist takes hold of his hair, holding his head against your core.

Your orgasm approaches rapidly, this scene so explicit and lovely you don’t have time to dwell on how fast the impending snap of it takes you. Your hips are working of their own accord, flexing against him in your race for release.

He happily obliges, greedy and encouraging you to come all over his tongue. Only a look of carnal desire and a harsh suck to your clitoris is what it takes to have you coming undone around his head, crying out his name with a high pitched whine.

Junmyeon pulls every drop from you, licking at your pulsating core with a satisfied moan. When you’re finished, your back dropping limply back to the sheets, he raises his head to look at you.

He is smiling so sweetly, his lips, nose and chin shining with your release. “Good girl.” His voice sounds gravely.

He slides up to your face, kissing your lips briefly and smiling as you grimace at the taste of yourself on his lips. He rolls to his side and suddenly you’re being pulled by the waist until your back is contently pressed against his chest.

“You okay?” his voice breaks the silence, nuzzling into your shoulder as he spoons your body. You relax against him, still recovering your breath.

You smile, deciding instead that you would rather face him in his arms, “Yeah. Thank you.”

He smiles in return, allowing you to tuck your head into his neck. His chin finds a comfortable place, resting atop your head.

“ _That good, huh?_ ”

You don’t have to look at him to hear the grin splitting his lips and you roll your eyes, laughing. Lightly, you flick him in the chest.

He laughs, too, followed by a sigh until it is his stomach growling this time that breaks you from the warmth of his arms.

Your eyes go wide as you try not to laugh at him.

“Shut up, that was a lot of exercise.” He reasons with a sheepish grin, but you don’t say anything, opting instead to kiss his clavicle.

His stomach makes a sound of protest again and you don’t hold back your laughter. Junmyeon wastes no time in smothering you with kisses, “Don’t laugh!”

It only serves to makes you giggle harder at him, cackling as your body twists in his hold. He settles after a moment, affectionately stuffing you back against his chest to stop your mocking.

After a quiet moment, “…do you want room service, _or?_ ” he inquires carefully.

For a brief moment you’re confused by the hanging end of his question. Oh, right. You never answered him. So you sit up to ponder. He takes this as a bad sign and raises himself on one elbow, gauging for a negative reaction.

“Am I still invited to stay?” Your eyes find his and you wait.

Junmyeon releases a breath, “I would like you to. I don’t get to do this much, and it’s only the late afternoon.”

Your soft expression sets him smiling at you, the same dazzling one he gave you when you said he was the coolest earlier this afternoon.

“I’ll stay.” you confirm, stretching your arms above your head, trying your best to be nonchalant. You yelp again as he laughs, pulling you back down to the bed with him.

You sit up once more when his stomach growls for the fifth time and he flings himself from the bed to grab at the menu directory on the night stand between the beds.

He holds it open to you as he swipes the phone from the night stand as well, his brow furrowing in concentration as he punches the room service number into it.

Silently, you look at him, pressing the tip of your index finger to the words _'tuna melt’_ listed on the menu. Junmyeon nods, mimicking a drinking motion with his free hand at you with raised brows.

“Water is fine.” you mouth at him, pointing now to the liter of water on top of the mini fridge.

“Ah, yes, may I please order for room one one one five?” he says suddenly, eyes focused on your nakedness. His gaze ravishes you, “Yes, may I have two tuna melts…chips are fine…yes…thank you.”

He promptly hangs up, removing the phone from his ear and replacing it on the dock.

He sighs, reclining against the pillows once more, “Twenty minutes.”

“All good. Um…” you begin, your eyes loitering around the open door of the bathroom, “…my clothes…”

He smiles with a cocked brow and lopsided grin, “I mean, I’m not complaining.” He makes sure to catch your eyes before he bites his lip and lets his gaze lower appreciatively down your body once more.

You swat at his chest playfully, “I’ll need to wear them when I go home, though.”

Pausing, he considers, “Hm… I’ll have them laundered for you tonight? For now, if you really insist on wearing clothes, you’re more than welcome to wear something of mine.”

The idea has you blushing, and your heart clenching at nothing. It seems so domestic, too intimate to be wearing his clothes, but you suppose in the event of an emergency, until your own come back, you’ll have to make due.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” he leans forward to kiss the tip of your nose and you relax once more, laying on your back. Junmyeon curls into you on his side, leaning over on one elbow. It feels natural when you pick up his hand, turning over the weight of it in your fingers to trace the lines of his palms.

He watches you quietly, “Do you read?” he questions, gesturing his head to his palm. You tip your head back to look up at him with a smile.

“A little.”

He hums curiously, “What does it say?”

You sigh heavily, “Well…” your fingers trace his line of stability, “You’ve got a long career ahead of you. This line here,” you run your fingers up and down, “They’re all deep, but this one is deepest. You’re relatively happy with the success you’ve found in life.”

He hums again in agreement, nosing your hairline, “Ah, _yes_ , Suho is very happy.”

You ignore his remark, your eyes flicking up to serve him a look. “This is your life line.” your finger tickles his palm as you run it along the arch toward his thumb, “You’re healthy, and you’ll live a long life.”

“And this one,” you point to the line horizontally across his palm, “is your head line. It indicates your mental state, which is pretty nice. You’ve got a good noggin. Maybe that’s why you’re the leader.” you giggle.

He jokes with you, “Oh, yes. Definitely I was chosen as Exo’s leader because I have the best head lines in my palms.”

You scoff, “I was just saying. _Anyway,_ ” you chastise with a good-natured finality, “this one is your love line.” you comment, rubbing the pad of your thumb along the line, ending between his index and middle fingers. “They say the degree of the curve speaks how open you are.”

You make a point not to look at him, your brow knitting as you read it, “Yours is deep, which means you love _deeply_ , but the line itself is not curved dramatically, which means you don’t open up easily, or you don’t explore and express that side of yourself very often or very well.”

He kisses your forehead, “I see.” adding, “I think that’s pretty accurate.” after a moment. His tone is sincere and simple, acknowledging the truth in what you’ve said, nothing more and nothing less. It simply is what it is.

You smile at him, pleased with his reaction. You always thought it was kind of cheesy and weird to read palms, but you enjoyed the knowledge nonetheless.

While reading and tracing your fingers along his palms, you couldn’t help but notice the pock marks, some scarred over and others half healed.

Junmyeon does his best to be nonchalant about your prodding fingers, tracing over the slight dips and splits. His breath catches when you pull the hand to your lips, kissing a few of the marks and rubbing over the entirety of his palm with your fingers. He doesn’t shy away from your questioning fingers and eyes. He just exists in this moment as himself and you find yourself touched by his trust.

“Sorry.” he mumbles.

Your eyes look to his face, “For what?”

He scoffs quietly, looking toward the door, “I don’t even know.”

Gently, he pulls his hand from yours, squinting at it with disdain and clenching a fist before releasing it, repeating the motion several times while he turns the hand over and back, spreading his fingers.

“It’s a nervous thing.” he says calmly, and you don’t need to ask to know what he means.

He lays his head down beside yours, “I don’t even realize I’m doing it. We’ll be sitting there in interviews or wherever and I’ve got my hands folded in front of me beneath the table and then we go back stage and I realize I’ve pulled the skin just enough to make a hole and I think…” his brows furrow slightly, deep brown eyes glancing to yours before he continues, “It’s an unconscious thing. Like playing with the hole in your jeans sort of, when you’re idle and you’re fidgety.”

You smile at him, drawing the hand back down to your chest, “It’s okay. Everyone has something like that.”

His answering soft smile is interrupted by a knocking on the door.

Junmyeon heaves himself from the bed, tossing you a look to cover up as he stuffs his legs into a pair of discarded track pants to answer the door.

You hear more than see him open it. There’s a whispered conversation you can’t see around the wall, until he rounds the corner to balance the tray of food on the corner of the bed. He leaves immediately and the bathroom light turns on.

_Ah, the laundry._

You can hear the door close and the light from the bathroom clicks off just before he is back, rubbing his hands together with a grin. It pulls a laugh from your chest at his antics, over enthusiastically wriggling his fingers until they’re grabbing a foil-wrapped sandwich and handing it to you across the bed.

You eat in relative silence, only happy noises of your mutually delicious dinner permeating the air of the room. It doesn’t take long for either of you to polish off the meal, agreeing to give it a thumbs up, four out of five stars, considering it is hotel room service.

It is your turn to leave the bed this time, throwing balls of tinfoil into the waste basket and washing your hands. Upon your return, Junmyeon grabs your waist, dragging you back to the bed with claims of wanting dessert.

Just like that, wrapped up in one another, uncaring about your tuna flavored kisses, he has you again. Softly beneath him as he pushes into you slowly, intimately, savoring the feel of your heat. With his arm curled around the top of your head you feel safe and desired, chasing a high together for the third time before collapsing into a pile of warm laughter and falling asleep.

You roll over in your sleep, body dragging you from unconsciousness with a discomfort in your shoulders. You jolt awake to the sound of a pounding on the door, the sound of someone’s voice on the other side of it.

Delirious with sleep, Junmyeon stirs behind you, lifting his head from the pillow to look at the door with one eye barely squinted open.

“ _Yah, Hyung_ , I’m coming in!” an irritated voice quips from the door once more. Cold terror washes over you, mind suddenly sharp with clarity as you hear the door lock click and the weight of it opening.

Luckily, somewhere in your post coital bliss, you must have gotten chilly and crawled beneath the sheets although you were still very much naked.

A scowling man walks into the bulk of the room, his strong disapproving eyes landing on you and Junmyeon, “Hyung, it’s nearly eleven. We’ve gotta go, we’re late.”

You want to scream, _eleven o'clock?_ The air in your lungs whooshes from your body momentarily until you realize you don’t have class today. Part of you is just a tiny bit sad you’ve wasted your prime morning study time though.

The man standing in front of the bed tosses a bag into the white linens, “I think these are yours.” he comments dryly. His expression is judgemental.

“ _Thanks._ ” is all you can think of to say.

“Alright, alright.” Junmyeon interjects, “We’re good, Sehun. Give me ten minutes.”

Sehun makes a sound of disagreement, voice laced with commanding authority in his irritation, “You’ve got _five._ ”

Junmyeon removes his arms from you as he rises, uncaring if Sehun sees him in all of his glory. He still ensures the blankets are wrapped around your body before he gets out of bed.

The maknae turns away after collecting his own luggage from the other bed. He very pointedly looks you over before he looks at Junmyeon with nothing more than an annoyed sigh as he leaves.

Fully alert, you jump from the bed. You feel awful that he is late, more or less because of you. What if this fucks everything up and he is upset with you? What if their manager calls you out on it and tells you off?

You’re throwing your clothes on haphazardly, stuffing your arms into your denim jacket and throwing your bag over your shoulder, hissing as it thumps heavily against your back.

“I’m sorry I’ve made you late.” you chime in, watching Junmyeon struggle to school his hair into a decent shape before he gives up altogether, pushing it under a baseball cap.

“You didn’t.” he smiles, and you find yourself smiling right along with him.

“Besides,” he quips, zipping his luggage shut and stuffing his feet into his untied shoes, “The number of times Chanyeol and Baekhyun have been late for _no reason at all_ is staggering. I’m allowed to be late for _once._ ”

He holds the door open for you, stealing your lips in a chaste kiss just as you pass him at the threshold. Standing just outside the room are a handful of his members, waiting with various expressions. Minseok wears a mask of surprise, his eyes widening and looking between you and Junmyeon as if disbelieving everything you’re certain Sehun told him. Chanyeol and Baekhyun look delighted, and Jongdae’s face is painted with jealousy once he realizes who you are. The rest are missing.

Sehun’s expression alone makes you turn to Junmyeon awkwardly, waving goodbye too quickly to try and loiter. You know you can’t leave with him.

“I can take the stairs.” you say with a sheepish grin, your hand absently smoothing your hair from its mussed state at the crown of your head.

Junmyeon cuts in, “No, that’s a lot. Just come down after us.”

Nobody says anything and you don’t fight him on it, “Okay.”

Sehun presses the 'down’ button on the elevator, giving you a serious side eye. You step away from them, clearing your throat and looking out the window on the opposite wall. The specific shade of blue in the sky today is fascinating, you think.

Your eyes creep back to them as the door chimes and opens, the herd of them shuffling into the cramped elevator. Junmyeon is watching you in return, his smile a little wistful. He puts on a brace face, winking at you just before the doors slide shut and your own metallic reflection stares back at you.

You didn’t realize you were holding a breath until you are alone in the quiet elevator lobby on the eleventh floor. You feel as though your heart walked on that elevator with him, sinking to the ground and down, down, down with each floor they pass.

You’re in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hope you're enjoying this angst fest with me.
> 
> I really wanted to explore a certain theme with this story, and I hope you'll stick around through it. I promise it isn't all angst and smut!


	3. Chapter 3

“Happy Birthday!” you exclaim happily. On your tip-toes you swing your arms around Soohyun’s thick shoulders and squeeze him tight until it hurts to push yourself against his solid frame.

The older man laughs like thunder, just as happy. You can’t remember how many drinks he has had, but you’re enjoying watching him be the one to let go for once.

Luckily for you both, being senior serving staff at your restaurant came with its perks. Perks such as you both being able to take the same night off to go out and celebrate. It doesn’t matter what day of the week it is, it’s Summer. Your restaurant is always busy during the season. The city, too, is busy any night of the week, May through September.

This is your favorite time of year. When you are on break from school and good money gets even better with busy shifts. You make even more because you work a bit more, and it tastes sweeter because you get to go home and do nothing or go out with friends. Like right now.

There’s a certain kind of magic you love about the hotter season. Days never seem to end, only the sky becomes a light show twice per twenty-four hours, like clockwork. One half gives you a dazzling galaxy of stars and the other, blue skies and fluffy white clouds. It always wraps you in a warm embrace of endless possibility, and that freedom makes you feel invincible.

With a giddy laugh, Soohyun returns your affection, lifting your feet from the sticky bar floor. He presses the air from your lungs until you’re smacking his arm in defeat. Setting you down carefully, he makes sure you’re good and steady before he lets go.

“Thank you!” he hollers, slamming back the remaining bit of soju in his glass.

His jovial attitude is infectious. Even the humid air in this club and the way it’s making your hair cling to your neck with sweat can’t damper the exemption of your spirits, and you haven’t drank enough to consider yourself even slightly buzzed.

It’s stuffy, but a new song vibrating the walls with an artificial heartbeat calls your own toward the dance floor. Something that beckons to the excitement making your veins thrum with the feeling of being alive in the sweltering heat of the summer. Looking back, you crook a finger to the birthday boy, but he shakes his head, mouthing a _‘no’_ and holding up his glass, magically refilled by a bartender.

You don’t feel bad at all leaving him at the bar alone. He knows you’re a shitty wingman, or wingwoman or chicken wing or whatever. It doesn’t matter, he and you both know it, and to be frank, he doesn’t need it. Soohyun is more than capable of staggering into any establishment on his own and making women’s heads turn. If anything, you make it more difficult for him to find potential partners when you’re beside him looking just as good.

Sticking your tongue out at him, you dismiss him with a devious smirk, instead focusing on the moment. On the music surging through your very being, getting drunk on its tempo.

You don’t much care that you’re sweating or that your feet hurt in these heels. Normally, you wouldn’t be bothered, only wearing them under the excuse that it was a special occasion and you didn’t purchase them to sit in your closet. Plus, they look killer with this dress.

Your palms are hot where they drag up your own legs, and you close your eyes. Dancing has never been your strongest point, but there’s something addicting in the volume pulsing in your ears tonight. Something ritualistic as you smile to yourself, letting your body anticipate the rhythm just as it plays. It makes you feel good to move this way, so you let go for as long as it will sway you.

After a while, the song ends and a new one begins. One with an intro you recognize, a sound unlike others that dips into a stuttering bass. You open your eyes when you realize it’s a remix of _'Monster’_ by EXO.

Even just the name of his group sends an excited shiver down your spine. Without warning, it’s too balmy in the center of this mass of undulating bodies. Your own feels too damp and the dress that clings to you feels like an uncomfortable second skin.

As if broken from the spell of the previous song, you can hear everything else over the beat of the remix. Similar to the din of a bell, you catch a pretty laugh you recognize on the upper level. Your eyes scan where your brain is telling you- landing on the face of the laugh’s owner.

Furrowing your brow, is that… _Kai?_ It has to be. Nobody else on this earth possesses the combination of lucky genes quite like he does.

Your breath catches in your throat, a hot flush brushing your face when you notice it’s not just him. It’s eight of them, laughing with embarrassment at their own song, albeit a remix, carving a home in the chest of every dancing body in this club. His laughter is overridden by the sound of Chanyeol’s clapping as he nearly liquefies onto the floor above you with a wide laughing smile.

Beckoning your eyes to his face you find the one you want staring back at you, having caught the stillness of your frame among a crowd of movement. Your lips drop open with a soundless gasp.

He looks effortlessly incredible. Relaxed in their space, hanging over the railing of the balcony. He’s watching you, idly swirling bits of ice around in his empty glass with a twirl of his wrist.

Junmyeon smiles, tipping his head toward you and tucking that cheeky smile into the corner of his lips. You take a moment to let your eyes rake over him. His hair is fluffy and unstyled, hanging over his forehead. He isn’t dressed to the nines like most people in this space are attempting to be, yourself included. He doesn’t have to be when he’s sitting up there on the VIP floor.

He detaches himself from the rail, pushing to his full height and disappearing from your view with a grin. Without his presence, but knowing he is here, you feel a different type of exhilaration altogether. You’re not interested in dancing anymore, unable to keep your eyes from the railing where his members talk and joke and watch the nightlife.

The air around you is quickly much too thick with strangers for midnight on a Thursday. Trying your best without touching anyone, you dodge your way back to the grand bar, gripping the smooth resin edge of it and admiring the shade of the cherry wood encapsulated within it.

From the corner of his eyes, Soohyun watches you, “Didn’t feel like dancing anymore?”

You grin at him, “I just need to catch my breath.”

His heavy brow creeps toward his hairline as he considers your statement with a swig of his current drink, already half empty.

“It was just one song and you’re already winded? We gotta get you into the gym, Y/N.”

The scowl you fix him with from the bottom of his glass has him bursting out with more roaring laughter, as always. “I’m kidding!” he chokes out with a poke to your cheek, “Cheer up!”

“Yeah, um…” you don’t know where to begin, or if you should even bring it up?

This is a celebration for Soohyun. If Junmyeon tries to whisk you away, as much as you would be delighted to, you can’t just drop your best friend for him. You’re here to hang out and perhaps help Soohyun take someone home, if that’s what he wants. By the way he is slamming back his drinks, you’re wondering if you might be here instead to take him back to his apartment safely.

The hand that touches your back faintly startles you, making you jerk toward Soohyun and away from the intrusion.

A familiar scent hits your nose and you realize that it is Junmyeon who has joined you at the bar. When you face him, he is pointedly not looking at you, his eyes scanning the bar menu hanging over your heads with a delighted crinkle, his lips parted just slightly, the bottom bit of flesh sticking out a little more. You notice the quirk is something that happens with his face when he is concentrating.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” he smiles as he talks, but still hasn’t looked at you.

A sheepish laugh flutters past your lips, “I know. Sorry I jumped.”

Finally, after placing his order with the bartender, he turns, resting his elbows back against the counter and letting his eyes find yours.

Beside you, Soohyun has been observing the entire encounter go down, trying to keep the cheeky grin off of his face. He finishes the last dredges of his glass and sets it back against the bar forcefully with a loud smack.

You jump, eyes wide and whipping to him, “Oh!”

He stares as you, eyes alight with a mischievous gleam. His only response is to raise one eyebrow.

Junmyeon, on your other side, is as smart as they come and put it together automatically that this must be the famed Soohyun. He reaches out his hand to the larger man.

“Hello, I’m uh… Junmyeon. You must be Soohyun, it’s nice to meet you!”

Soohyun is a little shocked at his forwardness but happily shakes his hand regardless, “Nice to meet you Junmyeon.”

They easily drop into light conversation and you can’t fight the smile on your face at their simple pleasantries. Soohyun isn’t in any way, shape, or form romantically inclined with you, nor you with him. That makes this whole situation a lot less awkward.

He is still protective of you, like a brother, but he also knows about Junmyeon and the way you look at one another because he was there when it first happened six months ago.

Junmyeon’s drink is delivered in silence and he nods at whatever Soohyun is saying, sipping at the rim of the glass with a smile. You’re examining him. Taking him in and willing your heart to stop beating in time with the EDM booming from the speakers at 120bpm as you look at him.

The way the apples of his cheeks rise and stick out when he smiles a certain type of way. How his brows raise as his eyes crease in delight when he laughs. The beautiful cascade of colors that light up his hair in a rainbow of pulsing hues as the lights dance to the music above your heads. In awe, the way just having his presence here instills in you a sense of calm and excitement all at once. You’re afraid you’ll never get enough.

It is odd, having him in your space but not alone. Here, with Soohyun. Two people who are important to you.

_…Is Junmyeon really that important to you?_ You haven’t seen him but twice, the last time only seven or eight weeks ago. Since then you’ve had a lot of conversations with yourself about him over a glass of wine in the confines of your apartment. About him with _you_ , specifically. Imagining if he wanted something more than what you have with him, and if would you be willing to do that, too?

Would you be willing to make room in your heart and your time for him as more than the other half of this whatever it is you have together? Are you willing to risk getting your heart broken by him if he can’t make time for you with his busy schedule? _If he doesn’t love you when you’re ready to love him?_

You’ve thought about him a lot, surely, although you try to persuade yourself that is the natural progression of your situationship with him. At first, you thought about him a lot when you were lonely and needy and your body was desperate for friction. In the last month, since your second adventure with him, you’ve thought about him in other ways too.

Daydreamed of him when you went back to that bench again a week later to study. Your eyes kept drifting around, hoping he might show up again and just sit with you. At home, when you were curled up on the couch for a relaxing evening in, thinking how nice it might be if he were there with you. Perhaps with you wrapped up in his arms or your head resting on his lap. Perhaps it was the reverse. You smiled thinking about how he might really love it to fall asleep with his head in your lap and your fingers gently running across his scalp.

You thought about how beautiful he was. Thought about what he might look like if you actually got to wake up in each others arms peacefully. How the bright morning sun might paint his skin in a golden white glitter. How soft and warm he might look, relaxed and still sleeping against the crisp white linens of your bed. How peaceful he might feel.

You thought about how precious his soul appeared to be. How fragile and defenseless and scared you made him the last time you were with him and how warm you felt to know he felt safe with you once you voiced as much. You talked a big game about knowing Junmyeon and not just Suho the first time you met, and you still stand by that. How easy it is to know him for who he really is under all of those layers that he carefully portrays and orchestrates to protect himself.

“ _Y/N?_ ” he calls, gently touching your elbow.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts, eyes seeking his face. He smiles at you softly when he notices you were lost in thought, and you swallow hard.

“Soohyun was just telling me you’re here celebrating his birthday.”

Furrowing your brows, “Yes?”

He barks a laugh, covering his mouth at your cute, perplexed pout, “I invited you both to come up to our section, if you want?”

“Only if Soohyun wants to. It’s his birthday.” you shrug, trying to cool your cheeks.

Soohyun cracks a cheshire smile at you, “I think it’ll be fun.” he says. His eyes are pointedly looking between you and Junmyeon with mischief, “Besides…” he adds, pausing to scan the patrons here on the ground level of the club, “There doesn’t seem to be much fun going on down here.”

You and Junmyeon both snicker at that, knowing exactly what he means.

Part of you is slightly worried about Junmyeon’s public image if someone notices him down here talking to you and then taking you upstairs, but you feel a little less targeted if you’re not the only one being invited up. The remaining part of you is excited to be with Junmyeon.

Excitement at not just the idea of fucking him, maybe. Excitement at the greedy idea of hearing him laugh and seeing him smile more. Of having him near you, and relishing in how good he makes you feel just by standing beside you.

Junmyeon nods, turning back to the bar and hailing a bartender. When a stoutly man arrives, Junmyeon slides him his black card, gesturing to the both of you and himself.

You jaw hits the floor. You know how much these drinks can cost and you know that while you may have only had one or two, Soohyun is probably well into his eighth or ninth.

“Junmyeon, _no!_ ” you chastise, gently tugging on the sleeve of his grey sweater.

He pats your hand and smiles, “Let me do this as birthday congratulations and an apology for hijacking your celebrations for the evening.”

Soohyun claps him on the shoulder, “Thank you!”

Your sometimes-lover turns and clasps his hand back in standard bro-like fashion, “No problem, it’s the least I can do!”

The bartender returns and Junmyeon finishes the transaction, “Come on, now. The guys are probably wondering where I am.”

Automatically, your head turns toward the balcony where you first saw him this evening. Most of them don’t seem to be paying any mind to the club patrons below their floor. The maknae, however, has his eyes trained on your little group as Junmyeon does his best to inconspicuously touch your back to guide you toward the staircase at the back of the club.

You blush under the scrutiny of the guards as he ushers you forward with claims that you’re both with him. Your hand brushes over one of the pretty velvet ropes as you pass, and it’s just as soft as it looked.

When you reach the top of the stairs, several pairs of eyes glance your way briefly to see who made an entrance. You’re sure there are other celebrities and successful individuals among all of the faces, but the only ones you know are the faces of EXO, and the only one you care to look at is Junmyeon’s.

He looks right back at you, surprised, as if he thought you might be gazing at all of the other people just like him. People with money, fame, power or beauty, or any combination of those things. Instead, he reminds himself that you are used to seeing people like that come and go.

Instead, he is reminded, that you seem to be putting all of your bets on him. That you’re here looking at him, and him only.

He seems to relax a little, embolded. Enough to quietly take your hand and lead you to his members. The mouthier of the pack notice, various knowing grins etching onto their faces.

Junmyeon introduces you, “My friends are going to join us for the evening, please treat them kindly.” He gestures to each of you with your names, and Jongdae instantly recognizes you. He gracefully removes himself from the couch and offers you his seat instead.

You look at Junmyeon, unsure of what to make of his offer. The older man smiles, nodding.

Jongdae is kind, and you’re happy Junmyeon has him, “Thank you.” you whisper as you sit.

The younger man stands beside the arm of the couch, “Did you want a drink? I can get a waiter, _or…?_ ” he trails off, looking around the flat for one.

Chanyeol cuts in, trying to speak with Baekhyun climbing all over him, “Yah, cut it out!”

Baekhyun howls, ignoring him instead, “We want to go to karaoke!”

Some of the other members perk up at the idea. “Oh, that sounds like fun.” Jongin replies.

Minseok nods, shoulder dancing enthusiastically in his seat, “We have been here for a few hours.”

“Our guests might like to come, too.” Kyungsoo reminds them, his eyes slowly crossing the expanse of faces and landing on yours with a gentle smile.

Soohyun interrupts, “I think that sounds cool. I’ve never been, actually.”

This was a fact that even you didn’t know about him, and your eyes widen, “ _Seriously?_ ”

He smiles, a somewhat triumphant, out of place beaming smirk that says it’s something he takes pride in.

You can’t recall yourself ever being big into karaoke either, but that’s not to say you didn’t like it. Simply, you had never had the time or wish to go previously. Now, with several professional singers sitting in your circle, a thrill of anticipation creeps up your spine.

“I’m all in.” you grin.

__________________________________________

The karaoke bar Baekhyun chooses for your group is on the same side of town. It seems to be the only one anyone is willing to drive to at this hour that has decent private rooms. They’ve carpooled, but still drove enough cars that there were a few empty seats between the three vehicles.

You laugh once more, recalling the face Junmyeon pulled when you told them you and Soohyun would catch a lyft to the address, just the same way you made it from your apartment to the bar.

He absolutely is not going to let that happen. Junmyeon didn’t drive his own car tonight, but somehow rearranged the members so that Soohyun was cramming into the back seat of Chanyeol’s Mercedes Benz with both you and Junmyeon, while Baekhyun rode shotgun.

The vocalist handles Chanyeol’s aux cord well, and you understand why he is the center of activity among their group. His chatty nature and sunny personality combine well with Chanyeol’s infectious happiness. You admire them together in silence, happy that they appear so at ease with each other and you.

Junmyeon and Soohyun are carrying on a conversation you’re not inspired to follow about sports. Instead, you look out of the window, watching the city blur past in a complex pattern of shapes and lights, humming along to a tune Baekhyun has deemed worthy of letting play. Your hand is in Junmyeon’s and you smile at his attentiveness, letting you know he is still paying attention to you with the way his thumb softly strokes back and forth over your knuckles as he talks.

Chanyeol’s car is comfortable, and you find you like the way he drives. Normally, you would be worried about getting into the car with someone you don’t really know, but you’re beginning to realize you break a lot of your normal nuances for Junmyeon. You watch Chanyeol’s face in the barely glowing blue reflection on the windshield. His eyes flick to Baekhyun briefly, one hand tapping the beat into the top of the steering wheel where his hand is spread across it. His other hand remains comfortably on the top of the gearshift.

You catch his eyes casually in his reflection, but he only smiles a little wider and warmer. He is the first, although you’ve never spoken directly to him, to make you feel wholly welcome and comfortable. Baekhyun’s fingers climb the top of Chanyeol’s hand on the gearshift, poking it in time with the tune as he sings softly.

________________________________________

The private room provided for your group is large, with a plush couch, bean bag chairs and cushions of various sizes surrounding a large table in the center of the room. There are stage lights above the massive television monitor on the wall and a shelf where the karaoke system and accessories are housed beneath.

Almost immediately, the group of boys begin to fall into different seats. Junmyeon is kind enough to turn on the console, placing the mics down on the table. He picks up the remote and fiddles with the lighting. It becomes drastically brighter with white light and a hiss of protest works itself around the room.

“Sorry.” he laughs, turning the lights off altogether and turning the stage lights to a pretty pink color before he looks back at you for approval.

Automatically he frowns, seeing you in the center of the couch with a grinning pair of eyes on either side of you. Jongin throws his best aegyo at him while Baekhyun just laughs at the pout Junmyeon gives.

You can’t help thinking how adorable he looks. Under any other, more… public circumstances, you know you should be extremely careful with your interactions among these idols, especially their leader.

Looking around, you let yourself relax. You’re in a private lounge with them, not in public. Exhaling your anxieties, you look up to your favorite among them and pat the couch in front of your legs.

Junmyeon beams at you, walking over and sinking immediately to the floor in front of you and resting his back against the couch. Throwing his own caution to the wind, he reaches back for your hand turns his head, gently brushing his lips along your fingertips before he places your hand against his shoulder.

Minseok approaches the console with an enthusiastic sort of wiggle.There are conversations all happening at once, and at the same time you realize they are all aware of the talks happening around them and involved. It’s strange to watch them weaving in and out of multiple discussions.

Soohyun catches your eyes from his place in a bean bag chair in front of the table. Sehun is lounging beside him, laughing about something. You want to be shocked if the two of them are hitting it off, but you’re not surprised because Soohyun is just that type of person. He can be friends with anyone.

You don’t recognize the upbeat pop song Minseok is singing aloud. Even so, the timbre of his voice sounds nice. His cat-like eyes are hyper focused on the screen as he sings, but he’s smiling. Jongdae sits on the other side of the table, swaying his body to the beat and giving Minseok his undivided attention.

“Do you like video games?” Baekhyun suddenly blurts from beside you. At first you’re not sure he is even talking to you, until he leans in, waiting for your answer.

You laugh loudly, and it makes both he and Jongin smile, laughing with you. You can feel Junmyeon’s shoulders shake, too. He knows you laugh too loudly when you’re nervous.

“Uh,” you try to recover, “I do, but I haven’t played in years.”

“Why not?” Jongin interrupts curiously.

These boys are making you think about cherished memories. Idly, your fingers creep up the back of Junmyeon’s head while you think, softly carding through his hair.

“I don’t have any. I used to play with my brother a lot when we were kids, but when we grew up and he moved away he took the consoles with him.”

Baekhyun curls his lips into a tight line, nodding in understanding, “Ah, I see.”

Jongin is silent for a moment before, “You should come to the dorms sometime and play with us.”

Beneath your fingers, Junmyeon freezes. You worry it’s a bad sign, as if he doesn’t want you to get that close, that personal.

As much fun as you want to believe it could be, you don’t want to overstep Junmyeon’s privacy. “I appreciate it, but I don’t think I’d ever have the time.” you say instead. It’s not totally a lie.

The tension in Junmyeon’s shoulders doesn’t go away. You choose to ignore it, instead focusing on Chanyeol’s attempt at singing a foreign pop song at his highest possible pitch and extravagant running-in-place movements. To your left, Baekhyun is grinning at him like an idiot.

A server enters in the middle of it, bringing a round of drinks you never knew there was an order for. A bottle of soju sounds good right now, you think, but before you drink anything more, you should probably use the restroom.

Beside you, the shorter idol is handed a bottle of it, flavored peach. “Excuse me, may I order the same thing?” you politely request, gesturing to the green bottle settled against the singer’s lips.

The server nods without a word, leaving the room once the rest of the drinks are delivered. Jongin gets up, letting you off the couch, “I’ll be right back.” you tell the handsome man sitting on the floor.

He smiles at you, but it doesn’t last, “Okay.”

You notice Soohyun’s head turn to you mid conversation, waiting, but you wave at him, mouthing _'bathroom’_ before making your exit.

Gods your feet are killing you. Wistfully you smile, happy you won’t have to fight to find the restrooms. The glowing sign is just down the hall.

When you emerge from the ladies room, you’re surprised to find Jongdae standing against the wall just outside.

“Hey.” you greet sheepishly, not sure what else to do. It feels like he has something to say, so you linger with him in the darkness of the corridor. It sounds like the walls are alive, tones of heavy bass thumping through every room. The smell of cigarettes makes you scrunch up your nose.

Jongdae laughs quietly, shaking his head and removing himself from the wall, “Are you enjoying yourself tonight?”

You consider his question, “This isn’t how I anticipated the night to go, but it’s been good so far.” you say with a smile.

He beams at you in a silent laugh, “Good, good.” Offhand, you register his beauty when he smiles. It’s dazzling, but the sharp, feline corners of his eyes aren’t quite right and you find yourself frowning that it isn’t Junmyeon smiling in front of you right now. The crescent shape of his eyes and the soft upturned crinkle at each corner is something you’ve grown fond of.

It’s silent but the man in front of you puffs out his cheeks; you get the feeling there are more words that Jongdae isn’t saying.

You’re about to excuse yourself back to the room, but a gentle hand stops you, “Thank you.” The look of confusion you send him prompts him to elaborate with a sigh, “For treating him well, I suppose.”

“ _Oh._ ” The gesture of his thanks warms you through and for just a moment you can understand why his brothers call him the kindest of them all. Even though this is awkward, standing in an aphotic hallway of some random karaoke bar in the middle of the night with a girl you barely know who is fucking your brother. You share a smile of understanding between you until he speaks again.

“It’s nice to feel like you belong to someone and vice versa, you know?” he comments further. The expression on his face almost says he knows exactly what he’s talking about but has chosen to cryptically ask you instead. It’s serene.

“I’m not sure I follow.” you reply, eyes looking to the floor, cringing at the cheesy coloring of the faded carpet.

Jongdae scoffs, but his words aren’t rude, “ _You don’t?_ Hm… I thought you would, since you’re his.” Jongdae isn’t the type of person to speak with the intention to bleed, that is clear. Still, the simple words pang through your chest like a stone down an empty well.

“Ah, I mean, I’m _n_ -” you begin weakly, your response cut short by a stronger voice.

“She doesn’t belong to me…she doesn’t belong to _anyone._ ” Junmyeon adds, joining you both.

The younger man’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t comment further for a long moment. His brows furrow, “That’s interesting.” he says with a tilt of his head, dusting off the nonexistent dirt from his pants. Jongdae turns, inching himself out of the space between you and Junmyeon, “I’ll head back then.”

You try to read the older man’s expression and the tone he used, but he gives you nothing more than a slightly knitted brow and eyes that are trying to hold yours, and you’re left wondering if he is upset or simply stating facts.

“We weren’t…” you flounder, taken aback by your own crumbling walls yielding to the intensity of his stare. You have nothing to feel bad about.

When your eyes lift to meet his, Junmyeon seems amused, “I know.” he whispers with a grin. Still, he doesn’t move, anticipating your squirming limbs under the scrutiny of his gaze.

“Why are you nervous?” he chuckles. His head leans closer to yours and you shift back to look up at his face. You’re surprised he can tell this about you just from body language, and it makes your heart flutter, pounding even harder against your sternum. You gawk at yourself internally. Since when did you lose your resolve and let him affect you like this?

Running a set of painted nails over your face, you collect yourself and smile, “I think you were a little jealous.”

Junmyeon has the audacity to huff, eyes going wide, “ _Me_ , jealous?” He adjusts his posture, lowering his voice a hair as a server passes you both in the dim lighting of the hallway. She doesn’t spare either of you a glance, intently focused on not falling head over heels - literally - while balancing a tray of cocktails on her palm.

Your eyes follow her. In the span of the six seconds she’s invading the narrow hallway, you come to feel sorry for her. She’s clearly uncomfortable and out of place, her free hand glued to the bottom of her short skirt, tugging it over her stocking-clad legs. The working woman inside of you mourns for her until Junmyeon is pulling your attention back to his handsome features.

“I don’t get jealous.” your lover focuses, his pouting bottom lip looks very kissable in the dingy light.

You stand up straighter and you poke at his lip with your index finger, unable to hide the color of humor in your voice when you answer, “ _Suho_ may not get jealous, but I think _Junmyeon_ can be a little envious.”

Subconsciously, he kisses at your fingertip, gently pressing against the pad while he thinks of an answer. A firm _'no’_ is all he says.

You don’t really want to dig too deep into this but you believe you would also like to perhaps explore his possessive side more.

“Are you jealous that I don’t belong to anyone or are you jealous that I was talking to Jongdae? Which is ridiculous, by the way.”

He bites back immediately, “I said I _wasn’t_ jealous. I don’t care who you talk to or belong to.”

A pause follows, but he doesn’t say anything else for the moment. You chew your bottom lip, your hands dropping to slide across his arms idly. His eyes follow the innocent path of your hands back and forth, fixed on the dark shade of your glimmering nail polish.

You have to ask him, “You _don’t?_ ” Cocking your head before adding, “So, what if Jongdae kissed me?” You knew that wouldn’t be the case because you aren’t interested or invested in that particular set of chocolate eyes and rich vocals. There is only one brand of that for you and it belongs to Junmyeon. You just aren’t ready to admit that to him, or yourself.

There is an unmistakable flash of something painful that passes through Junmyeon’s features. His jaw goes tight and his eyes stay fixed on your hands, but he says nothing. Slowly, the corners of his lips melt into a frown. You can feel his skin grow hot beneath your palms, or is that you beginning to sweat?

So you provoke him further. You generally want to know, and logically you consider if breaching this side of him will result in the conversation you think you need to have about the situation you keep finding yourself in with him.

Leaning into him you whisper, “What if I fucked someone else?”

First, you hear him hiss. Then he jerks back, his spine snapping straight as he grabs your hand and pulls you back into the bathroom.

His grip is still tight on your hand while he waits for one single breath. When he is confident there isn’t anyone else here, he whirls on you, shoving at you gently until your back meets the heavy weight of the door.

His hand releases you to flick the lock shut and you flinch at the loud sound the snap generates.

Your eyes lift to meet his. There’s an emotion you can’t describe set deep into the scowl he wears. Those dark pools of brown drop away from your own eyes. They focus on your lips before he growls, suddenly cupping your face in both of his hands and kissing you roughly.

You gasp into his mouth and this time you understand there is no room for chivalrous behavior. He immediately takes advantage of your parted lips, his tongue greedy in it’s claim of your own. Everything about this kiss screams his authority and threatens to swallow you whole. You absolutely relish in it.

Your hands climb his shoulders, digging your fingernails into the collar of his shirt and across his skin. One of his own drops to your hip, bunching your dress and pushing your squirming pelvis against the door just as he slots one leg between yours.

The pressure at your center is heavy as he presses his thigh against you, pulling a moan from your chest. Junmyeon releases your hip, allowing you to roll them against the fabric of his jeans. His lips remain where they were, smearing the flavored gloss of your balm against his own.

So unlike the other times you’ve done this with him, he is biting your lip, sucking it lewdly into his mouth and pinching the delicate flesh with his teeth whenever he feels like it, just to hear your appreciative fussing.

He releases your mouth with a pop, angling himself back to watch you. His breath is hot against your heated cheek where he tries to fight the thundering of his blood, “You’re not fucking someone else.” he murmurs, Adams apple bobbing with the air he is forced to take.

It takes you a moment to understand what he means, because he is right, you’re not. It’s hard to remember why he would say that when he has his perfectly sculpted thigh flexed tightly against your aching clit, even through all of the layers of clothing between you.

You swallow hard, licking your lips as you slow your hips against him, “But what if I _was?_ ”

Junmyeon laughs desolately, his hand slipping from your face to your neck and he tilts his head, letting the fingers brush against the column of your throat. Bringing his lips to your ear, he bites you again. His lips plant wet, open mouthed kisses high on your neck. You think you might get high just from the obscene sounds of his mouth so close to your ear alone. You gasp when he speaks again.

“Because if you were, I would say they’re doing a very _poor_ job of it.” he whispers against your skin, suddenly biting the flesh there, sucking hard enough to make you cry out.

You breathe, panting into his own ear, “What?”

Junmyeon chuckles, lifting his head so he can stare at the place where your core is pressed against him, “You’re soaking my jeans already, just from this?”

You want to speak but nothing more than a garbled moan passes over your lips, red and swollen from him.

“Does this excite you? It drives me crazy. _You_...drive me crazy.” he drawls.

He tuts his tongue at you and your eyes follow his down. Surely enough, your cheeks flood with heat at the realization that you are very much wet and staining his jeans.

It’s oddly hot, scorching a flush into your bones at the sight of it. At the notion that for the rest of the night Junmyeon will be walking around with this very obvious exclamation of your activities. Of your mutual obsession and possession of each other. You probably will, too, with the tenderness you can feel growing from his mouth against your neck.

Your heart flutters when you realize he’s grinning at you with his bottom lip between his teeth. He knows he’s right, tucking that smirk into his cheek as he guides your hips into more forceful motion against him.

The pressure rips a moan from your throat. Your throat that his lips are attached to again, his palms too warm against your face where they press to make your head fall back and expose more skin to his hungry mouth.

“Do you want me to fuck you? _Here, in public?_ In this dirty bathroom?” he breathes against you. It sends sparks down your spine and you grind yourself harder against him.

“ _Yes._ ” you whine at him, your hands gripping tightly to his biceps.

You do your best to bring your knee up against his crotch gently, prompting him in some way, but he refuses, “No. I’m not fucking you tonight.”

The sentence has you whimpering into the air between you. This time, you aren’t in any position to dictate how the events will play out for you. Junmyeon is in full control, guiding your body how he sees fit, and you love every second of it.

Hotly, he groans against the side of your neck, “Bad girls don’t get what they want.”

He licks your ear, gently tugging the lobe between his teeth. When he releases it, he whispers, “Tonight you’re going to ride my thigh until you come.”

You realize you’re not sure when you closed your eyes, but you squeeze them tighter anyway, imagining the stain it will leave behind in your mind with a sigh. Your cunt clenches once around nothing, serving to remind you just how empty he is leaving you tonight.

Perhaps when it’s over and you regain the clarity for proper thought you will be grateful, understanding that Junmyeon is still being so good to you, instead of denying you any orgasm at all. Somewhere in the back of your mind you know it’s because this gets him off just as much.

The coil in your gut is winding tighter and you’re certain if he were filling you right now you would be shattering into a million pieces. The roughness of his jeans is an adjustment, the wetness and friction of the material causing the thin silk of your panties to fold and create one more bump for your clit to catch against.

Junmyeon hisses, “I can’t wait to see everyone’s faces when we go back.” and his lips are kissing at your own again. His hands are in your hair and against your neck, lightly pulling you to look at him as he claims your mouth desperately, “I can’t wait for them to know _I’m_ the only one who makes you fall apart. Even without fucking you.”

Another deep kiss before he opens his mouth again. As if he can’t stop confessing the dirty thoughts he is having. Gods, just hearing him talk to you like this is enough you think. You’re panting openly, teeth beginning to clench as he pilots your trembling thighs in a punishing rhythm.

“That _I’m_ the one you’re fucking. I want to make them jealous just by this proof alone. Look at you, you’re a mess.” The kiss he places on your lips after the words is tender, “So beautiful.” he murmurs.

You’re so close. So fucking close and so turned on and so sad all at once that his cock isn’t buried deep inside of you, where you wish it was. That he isn’t moaning out his release right alongside you.

He talks again as you chase your high, “Tell me I’m right, sweetheart. Tell me it’s only me that you think of when you’re alone in your bed.” His forehead presses against your own, his own breath falling into the humid space you’re panting into.

Your limbs seize up. Only a few more weak rotations of your hips will do it, but he pulls his leg away. Immediately, you cry with frustration.

“ _Tell me._ ” he demands, eyes boring into yours with a smile. It lights your veins on fire and you feel like you might just find your release in his words only. You’re so close, and you’re not willing to fight him on it because you both know he’s right.

Although he is demanding this of you, there’s an edge to his voice and in his face that is asking you for reassurance that you feel the same way about him. Something not demanding at all but pleading. A softness you’re hoping is him looking at you and begging you to confirm that his feelings for you are matched.

His fingers ghost over the wetness of your panties and you moan, “It’s you.” you mumble, desperately rolling your hips toward him.

Junmyeon returns his leg to you with a smile, allowing you to take your fill and use him. Luckily, it doesn’t take long for your impending release to return. Not with the way he is kissing at your face and your neck and biting softly, following the subtle pain with licks of pleasure.

“Only _you_ make me feel this way.” you whimper against his hair quietly between your ragged breaths. Junmyeon stills his mouth but you’re vaguely aware you can feel his lips stretch into a smile against your neck as his arms wind around you a little tighter.

You moan again, body trembling in his grasp, “I don’t want anyone else to make me feel this way. Junmyeonnie, _fuck… I-_ I don’t want to bel… belong to anyone else.”

He raises his head and watches you with parted lips and an awed expression on his face. It’s enough for you to take one last peek before your eyes screw shut and your back arches off the door with a high pitched cry against his shoulder.

Junmyeon holds you through your orgasm, rocking your hips against his thigh until you’re sagging back against the wood, spent. Your chest heaves. It is while you’re recovering your breath do you understand the magnitude of what you said as you shattered into a million pieces for him and only for him.

He didn’t miss it, either. However, your heart doesn’t ache in the aftermath of it. It doesn’t hold itself out on a wire or wait to fall because the pure fondness Junmyeon is regarding you with tells you all you need to know.

Suddenly, he smiles, wide and happy, before his lips claim yours again. This kiss is disarming in a way that has your body melting into him. There’s no urgency to claim or to break away. Just a repetitive locking of wet lips slotted together in harmony, lingering in comfort against each other.

As you recover from your bliss, you catch the scent of your orgasm, all of your juices concentrated in one place and held like a trophy in the fibers of Junmyeon’s ruined jeans. You cover your mouth when you see it, laughing as if you can’t believe it’s real.

He smiles down at it, too, raising his brows at you in a suggestive appeal. “Thank you.” he says simply, as if you had just given him the best gift. Neither of you is willing to disturb the moment by regarding the deeper, obscure meaning of it.

Instead, he reaches past you to unlock the door, softly brushing the crimps of your dress out as he lowers it back to it’s proper place.

He kisses the center of your forehead at your hair line with thinned lips, barely able to contain his schoolboy grin. His laugh breaks the silence and he shakes his head.

You’re still a bit light-headed, smiling up at him and wondering why he’s shaking his head, “What’s so funny?” you ask.

Humming, he pulls you back into his embrace, wrapping his arms around you and tucking your head into his collar. He nuzzles your hair, “I was going to ask you for your number now but it seems I left my phone back in the room.”

The affection wound into his statement warms you through, sticky sweet and thick like honey. “Oh.” you giggle along with him.

Separating yourself from him to stand on two feet, you notice you don’t have yours either, “Me, too.”

“I’m serious, by the way.” Junmyeon says quietly, avoiding your eyes by smoothing a hand over your hair. The gesture makes you smile ardently at him, a hum of appreciation sounding from your throat.

“I’m glad you are. How else are we supposed to get in contact if we keep making a habit of this?” you reply easily. An urge to step into him again and bury your face in his neck surfaces, but you don’t want to be too clingy. The embarrassment of your confession not five minutes ago is still heating your face and making your throat dry.

Junmyeon grins, pulling open the door, “I guess we better go make sure we follow through then, huh?”

When the door to the room slides open and you and Junmyeon try your best to look completely normal, you lace your fingers together in front of you to stop them from shaking. You’re so desperate to keep your composure, but you can feel the heat of every pair of eyes flickering over your body.

Not sure what else to do as you make your way back to the couch, you look at your lover. His lips are twitched into a proud smile and he meets every pair of eyes looking back at him without any ounce of shame. It does nothing to quell your nerves as Chanyeol nervously coughs and restarts his song on the karaoke machine.

The couch only has one Yixing clinging to it’s well worn comfort, his legs draped one across the other, deeply relaxed as he appears to have sunk far into the black cushions. He doesn’t say anything even though you watch his eyes fall to Junmyeon’s pants and then your neck. While you make yourself busy trying to be comfortable on the opposite end of the couch, you observe the other man nodding his head and offering Junmyeon a raised fist.

They bump them together. You want to snort a laugh at the ridiculousness of it, opting to snicker with your palm covering your smile. Something hard presses against your bottom and you realize it’s yours and Junmyeon’s cellphones, abandoned there on the couch. You hand him his as you pocket yours without checking it. Everything you care about is here with you right now.

Once the initial shock of your return settles over the group, the atmosphere rebounds to normal in the span of fifteen minutes. Beside you, Junmyeon seems content to just watch. Jongin settles on the floor at your feet with a grunt and a deep sigh, puffing out his cheeks when he shakes his soju bottle to realize it’s empty.

“What’s the matter?” you lean down to whisper.

He pouts up at you over his shoulder, “Soju’s empty. I want to drink more but I shouldn’t.”

Jongin repeats the motion of shaking the empty bottle again and you laugh, “Why shouldn’t you?”

He peers at you as if it must be obvious, “Yah do you know how much is in these? They’re so bad for you but so _good!_ ” he exclaims. His pillowy lips and bright eyes are so adorable you have to resist cooing at him.

Junmyeon comments, “Good choice.”

For five minutes you’ve been able to feel Soohyun’s eyes boring into you from the same place you left him. There’s quite the collection of empty alcohol bottles sitting on the table in front of he and Sehun. Both of them seem plastered, but laughing at everything that comes out of each others mouths with wide smiles and lots of bromantic slaps of hands on one another.

Still- he’s watching you carefully. Surveying you for something you’re not certain of. You choose to ignore it.

“Seems our Sehunnie has a drinking buddy.” Jongin muses aloud. His lopsided grin shows more teeth on one side. It’s cute.

“Yeah, it does.” you beam, “I’m glad. Soohyun needs someone who can match him drink for drink.”

All three of the members with you laugh at the same time. Junmyeon lets you in on what’s funny, “Oh don’t you worry. Sehunnie might be the youngest but can drink all of us under the table except for Minseok hyung.”

Trying to picture it in your head is hilarious. The youngest and almost the largest among them, save for Chanyeol, facing off against the eldest and smallest. After a moment you’re giggling right along with them.

In your absence someone has figured out how to change the lighting so that the stage lights blink and fade in pulses. For a while you zone out and feel how tired your body is after the dancing and the drinking and the adrenaline. It feels like your mind is awake and aware but your limbs are too heavy to move much. With a smile you let your imagination tell you that if a zombie apocalypse broke out right now you would surely die.

Junmyeon’s arm is making a nice pillow, draped over your shoulders at the back of the couch. The thought that this is in part a display of claim makes you smile. You’re aware that it shouldn’t because it means complex trouble, but you let yourself enjoy the moment anyway. The affection and freedom to hang on one another the way a normal couple might. You silence your brain with the scent of his cologne when it tries to tell you anything else.

Jongin’s smooth voice on the floor to your right drowns out Kyungsoo’s soulful vocals at the karaoke machine, uncaring to put up airs of politeness when you and Junmyeon are being extravagantly obvious. You almost wish you could blame it on the atmosphere and the alcohol and the fun. Rather, you remind yourself of Junmyeon’s words the last time you saw one another. You let yourself be selfish.

“You look so tired all of the sudden. Did hyung wear you out that much?” You want to believe he is asking because he is genuinely curious, but the glimmer of mischief in his eyes tells you he wants to tease his elder.

Beside you, Junmyeon is smug, curling his lips tight over his teeth and rubbing at his chin with one finger. The flush that lights your face like a Christmas tree is obvious even through the haze of the colored stage lights. There’s nothing to say, but you’re getting high on the fact that everyone can see and smell what you’ve been up to with him. Of the thought of his hands and mouth on you.

The younger man laughs. That same pretty laugh that sounds like a bell that you pick out from a distance every time. “Sorry. I mean, not really though. Even before the uh… _yeah._ ” he tilts his head once quickly to the side in his lack of proper words, “It was still clear that you’re together.”

You’re half expecting Junmyeon to stiffen beside you, but he doesn’t. Peeking up at him, he’s just watching you in return with a warm smile. He looks breathtaking drenched in the royal blue of the overhead lights. Every bit like the king of his given element. The Water King.

“We, um…” you want to explain, to not lead him astray in thinking you’re an item if that’s not what it is. If you’re being honest, you’re not sure what you are with Junmyeon anymore. Were you ever sure of what this is or was? Your heart feels like something has shifted this time, but maybe you’ve just had too much to drink.

You chastise yourself. You’re not even buzzed.

Junmyeon speaks this time, “We aren’t together…right now.” It’s your turn to stiffen, until he continues, “We have to talk about it more.”

Jongin scoffs, “Yeah, it’s pretty apparent you mustn’t do much talking when you’re too busy doing all of _that_. ” His eyes flick to your lovers thighs.

Lightly, you kick his shoulder, “Don’t be like that.”

He frowns at you, twisting himself away with a false grimace, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you noona, but why not?”

Your eyes fall to your lap, “It’s complicated.” you whisper, your smile warping into an expression that says even you don’t understand it.

Jongin pouts, “ _Complicated?_ What, just because we’re idols?”

“That’s part of it. At the least something to consider.” Junmyeon confirms.

The younger man huffs at you both, his eyes lifting to look at you sitting there on the couch together in disbelief, “That’s a terrible excuse.”

“I thin-” you start, but Jongin interrupts you.

“I think it’s pretty obvious you have great sex.” Junmyeon kicks him this time with a hiss, harder than you had but not enough to cause injury.

He continues anyway, rubbing his shoulder, “I think you’re both afraid of how good it could be. Of how well you get along and how comfortable you already are with each other.”

There’s a lump forming in your throat. He’s right, you just aren’t ready to admit it because it is absolutely terrifying. Junmyeon’s frame is still pressed into your side. His presence is still warm and comforting although he remains silent.

“Other than the ridiculous way you’re constantly making goo goo eyes at each other, it’s still easy to tell you’re important to hyung. I don’t know you well enough to say the same for you, but you don’t strike me as the type to be that flimsy.” Jongin expresses his sentiments with a soft smile.

His words make your heart squeeze tight, beating stronger against your ribs. Before you can respond, Junmyeon’s lips find the side of your head for no reason at all. Jongin is still smiling tenderly at you, and when your eyes briefly catch Yixing’s on the other side of your lover, he’s smiling at you kindly, too.

You can feel eyes on you from around the room. When you glance, Baekhyun, Soohyun and to your shock, Sehun, are all mirroring the delicate smiles at you and their leader. Chanyeol is, too, even while effortlessly singing the words to an old acoustic ballad in his deep, throaty tone. The remaining members aren’t present or are otherwise busy looking at their phones.

“You would know better than most of us, I guess.” Junmyeon addresses him with a grin, “Between you and Baekhyun.”

Jongin flashes a wide smirk, letting it melt into a wistful smile, “Yeah.”

It’s all he says, effectively ending the conversation. The air doesn’t feel as tense as it was, and god are you exhausted. The content feeling of this night and the orgasm and the couch and the fun and Junmyeon sink into your very bones and will it to rest. If you’re not careful, you feel like you’ll fall asleep here, and you still need to ensure Soohyun gets home safe and sound. His cat, Mingho, would claw your eyes out if she had to spend the night alone. Sometimes you think she’s too attached.

Pulling your phone from your dress pocket, you hiss quietly. Your lock screen glares harshly back at you, the pretty pastel pink coloring of the clock doing nothing to soften the blow to your retinas.

**04.17am**

It’s later than you expected, but you don’t have work until the evening. Instead, you drop it to your lap with a shrug, startled when Junmyeon picks it up not one second later.

“Care to explain?” he whispers, pressing the home button and illuminating the lock screen again.

Staring back at you, behind the clock and notification bar, is a selfie of Lee Jongsuk. You laugh openly in return and take your phone back.

Junmyeon pouts, “I should be offended!” You shake your head at him with a grin, swiping your passpattern by muscle memory.

When the screen unlocks, you turn it toward him. Staring back at him now, is his own latest social media selfie.

“Oh.”

Again, you’re laughing. You laugh so hard you squirm, wanting to kick your legs about. He laughs with you this time, at least. After a moment he adds, “Still. It doesn’t even have to be me, but not another man. Least of all not _him!_ ”

“I’m not sorry. Kang Cheol is _perfect._ ” your joke makes him frown.

“He’s a comic book character, of _course_ he’s perfect.” the deadpan snark in his tone has even Jongin scoffing a laugh from his place on the floor.

“Fine, fine. I’ll change it, you brat.”

Junmyeon smirks, “Alright, I’ll remember that for next time.” and it makes your blood run a little hotter. Your internal glutton for punishment is clapping her hands in glee. Junmyeon being dominant with you was not something you initially anticipated, but it is something you have been delighted to experience thus far.

It takes you a moment, but you push his buttons further by selecting a public selfie from Chanyeol and making that your lock screen.

“ _Yah, Chanyeollie?!_ ” Junmyeon’s curse makes the younger boy look up, wide eyed and handsome.

The green colored lighting and the karaoke screen illuminate him with a gentle glow as he gives you attention, striding easily over the folded legs scattered around the room.

You turn the brightness of your phone down before you turn it to show him your lockscreen. He laughs so hard he melts to the floor, slapping Jongin in the arm before he lifts it for a high-five with you.

“I’m so flattered.” Chanyeol declares. Only after Jongin takes a moment to explain the story to him does he laugh loudly again.

Grinning, he praises you, “Savage. I like her, hyung. She’ll fit right in with all of us.”

The elder simply rolls his eyes with a shake of his head.

“But,” Junmyeon lets his chin fall to your shoulder, “Do you want to put my number in there now?”

You smile at him, “Oh, I almost forgot!”

He waits for you to bring up an empty text, whispering one number at a time to you, ghosting a kiss over your ear with each one. He breathes a laugh and smiles sweetly at you when you send the number a singular heart emoji.

From within his pocket, you can feel his cellphone buzz twice in quick succession.

Saving his number, you type the name _’Junmyeon’_ into the contact name space with a single red heart and he tsks.

“Shouldn’t it be _Suho?_ ”

Of course he would say that. It’s been your thing every time you meet.

“I’m not changing it.” The finality with which you tell him and then promptly shove your thumb against the save button makes him laugh.

His lips find the skin of your bare shoulder, humming a peck into the skin, “Thank you.”

It only takes a fraction of a turn for you to comfortably reach his lips. There’s some sort of comfort in them, soft and warm and real. Just pressing against yours without rush. Like the kiss you shared in the bathroom after your earlier activities. Like the kisses you’ve imagined might come from someone you really love.

It’s sweet and simple and the world around you doesn’t matter at all. You break apart with grins on your faces at Jongin’s loud mocking of your PDA.

“Fucking _gross._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the bottom of my heart serious I am so flattered and amazed by all of the love this work has received between here and tumblr!  
> (feel free to go check it out there at www.tumblr.com/softly-savage-mint-yoongi)
> 
> Please continue to look forward to this! Things are going to continue. Currently I'm looking at 6-7 chapters so there will be more 'Myeonnie goodness to come!
> 
> Thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning for this chapter- our OC has some mental health struggles, and if that's something that triggers or bothers you for any reason I would advise reading further with caution.  
> There's nothing severe and I left if mildly vague (to be interpreted however the reader sees fit), but if you struggle with the same forms of mental health disabilities like I do- you'll probably pick up on the queues of her behavior.  
> I thought it was worth mentioning. I promise there's lots of good in this chapter, too! :)

You’ve always been an animal lover. Today, however, for the third day in a row, you’re cursing the existence of birds in particular as you roll over in bed. Lately, the window beside your bed has become a stage for their sing song voices. It’s been just enough to wake you from precious slumber the moment the sun just begins to creep into the sky.

You dread having to open your eyes, huffing in annoyance as you reach for your phone and cradle it to your chest for a moment. You felt the gentle vibration of a text message notification when you pulled it from the bedside table. Cracking one eye open, you lift it above your head and rest your thumb against the unlock.

Your background is simple but makes your heart flutter nonetheless. A pastel blue color with a single symbol of a tribal water droplet in white. His symbol, your idol. Your Water King.

Swinging your feet from under the comfort of your covers, you rise begrudgingly. Making your way to the bathroom, you remember today is… Wednesday. Although you don’t have work today, you look around your apartment and realize you’ve got a day of cleaning ahead of you.

For the last two and a half weeks since Junmyeon gave you his number, you’ve neglected to tidy up more than necessary. Instead, you’ve been too attached to your phone, talking, texting or video chatting with him. Constantly sending memes and jokes and book recommendations. It’s been wonderful, really.

Shoving your toothbrush in your mouth, you begin your day. While you brush, you check your messages. Two from him, one from Soohyun.

Junmyeon’s first text is longer, answering your question about seeing each other soon, and letting you know he will be coming back from overseas tomorrow (today) after an interview that will wrap up their schedule in North America. His second text promises that he can’t wait to see you when he returns, and wishes for you to sleep well with a kiss emoji.

It sets a smile on your face too broad to contain the foam of your toothpaste. You finish up and wash your face, making your way to the kitchen.

Waiting for your coffee to finish brewing a whole pot, you open Soohyun’s message. He’s asking if you want to visit the new restaurant in town for dinner. His offer assures you he has a connection who could get you in without the waitlist, but he needs to know asap. Word around town is their menu in its entirety is well worth the required reservation days in advance.

Automatically, you’re excited. Your mood lifts a bit at the idea of deliciously rumored food, and you can’t wait to confirm. Sending him a load of excited emojis and the word _‘yes’_ in all caps, you go about your day with a happy bounce.

It starts off well, with a playlist of piano covers of EXO albums carrying through the apartment. The curtains are spread wide open to allow the bright sun in while you tidy up. With every chore that you complete, you relax that much more. Laundry folded, papers you no longer need shredded, trash out, all of it. You’ve even got a candle lit in every room and you’re on your third cup of coffee by noon.

At this hour, an anxiousness begins to creep in. You know on the other side of the world, where there’s a thirteen hour difference, Junmyeon is finishing his schedule for the day and is probably just getting back to his hotel room. Which means he’ll be texting you.

It makes you check your phone constantly, even though you’ve heard nothing from the device stuffed into the pocket of your tattered sweats- you have to check. It’s manic.

You’re not sure what to expect. Although the last week of nonstop contacting one another has been wonderful, it’s also been… _difficult._

Sure, there have been way too many good things. Your favorite in particular is whenever you get to watch an episode of his latest drama, _Rich Man Poor Woman._ You cackle in delight every time he’s making a ridiculous face or you pause the feed at the perfect moment to catch a silly expression. You’ve made a handful of memes with the images, sharing every single one with him to tease him.

He called you once immediately after you sent one to complain loudly through the speaker of your phone, until your laughter made him chuckle. Most of them he would pout at but then find just as hysterical as you would- claiming your tearful laughter contagious. He knew you thought he was a wonderful actor and these would be safe from ever being released to the masses of the internet.

Other times there were quiet moments where he would read to you over the phone or video chat as you fell asleep. Or vice versa. Quietly whispered conversations from under your covers with him until one of you was too tired to continue. Sometimes it was just getting to know one another better over endless games of _‘this or that’_ , asking a plethora of random questions and discussing the answers of why either of you chose one versus the other. You both have quite the affinity for books it seems.

Two or three times over the last week there’s also been heated moments. Snapshots of abs, not revealing his face as the top of the picture showed him biting his lip only. Teasing innuendos or emojis from both parties, sometimes ending in laughs and sometimes more.

You’d both been afraid to do more yet- fearful of it somehow getting hacked. Only one phone call where you’d been too desperate, you had panted into your phones at each other about how much you wish the other were there. During such, you’d admitted how much the audio turned you on. You could hear the slick sounds of every stroke he took, and in turn he could hear the gentle buzzing of your vibrator as you brought yourselves to completion. His quiet moans and huffs of breath in your ear haunt you still. Strange how intimate a moment could be with an entire ocean separating you.

Occasionally, conversation turns to the heavier things that you both need to discuss. About your relationship, about what you are and where you are and where you’re going. Two days ago, the conversation had turned from a conversation to an argument. You’d both raised your voices, but not at each other. Out of frustration.

Often the questions ran along the lines of what are you? Or are you in an exclusive relationship? You’d both easily admitted you would like that, but then the what ifs about it. The insecurities and uncertainty. The pressure to be all that an exclusive relationship typically entails.

You’re under the impression Junmyeon struggles with it harder than you do, naturally. He’s an idol. He already under an intense amount of pressure. In your mind, he doesn’t need the additional pressure of having to be there for someone when he can’t be all the time. Can he commit to you like that? Normally you spin it much the same- you’re about to start your last year of college. Are you going to have time for him, too? What happens if the few times he’s available by chance, you’re not? How upsetting and frustrating that would be. Are you both mentally and emotionally strong enough… mature enough to understand that if you become an actual item there is a chance you might go months between seeing each other? What if the fans find out? What if that becomes not enough and one of you calls it quits because it’s driving you mad? What if something like that happened and if affected his performance as an idol? What if he couldn’t keep up the facade- a second is all it takes for someone to say something about his composure.

So, do you stay as you are? The hooking up when it works out for your schedules by random chance? You know that won’t work either because you hate it. You know he hates it, too. You like belonging to one another too much. You like being selfish.

Both of you struggle with all of it. It’s terrifying when you don’t know the answers to the what if questions. How can you commit without knowing how frustrating it’s going to be? Becoming someone’s partner means disappointment at missed holidays and birthdays, anniversaries. Lack of intimacy, which you both clearly need a healthy amount of at this point.

The most frustrating of all is that neither of you have an answer for those kinds of questions. It’s a vicious cycle.

You pull yourself from your thoughts with a sigh. So much for your unstoppable, fantastic day. You feel gross, having done all of your house chores and needing a shower. Even looking around your clean apartment wasn’t relaxing you how it should be.

You’re hopeful a shower might lift your spirit enough to save the day, but the spray and suds in your hair aren’t doing much good. Just as you step out, you decide to drain your hot water supply completely and run a bath to lounge in.

While it fills the tub, you brush your hair and pull it onto your head and refill your coffee cup, even going as far as to grab a bath bomb from your pampering supply for good measure.

For a few moments you watch as it fizzes and swirls the lavender, gold and cream colors around the steaming water. Goddess, the name of the bomb, and one of your favorites.

You’re too impatient for it to completely dissolve- balancing your coffee mug on the side of the tub as you get comfortable in the depths of vanilla scented water.

Intentionally- you left your phone on the kitchen counter. You want to relax. Instead of letting yourself hyper-fix on it, you focus on your coffee as it slips down your throat. You’re being warmed inside and out from the coffee and the water, slowly sapping the tension from your bones.

While you drink, you busy yourself deliberating about what you might want to wear tonight.

By the time you’re frowning at the coffee-stained bottom of your mug and your skin is prickling from the tepid bathwater, nothing has sufficed to distract your thoughts.

You feel lousy and terrible and kind of don’t even want to go to dinner because you know your shitty mood will ruin the evening. Soohyun knows your moods shift and fluctuate with the wind, and he wouldn’t judge you for cancelling, but you feel disappointed about it. How burdensome.

Pulling the plug on the drain, you pull your knees up to your chest and sit in the tub, watching the space between the water’s surface and the ring of purple foam grow wider slowly. The gurgling sound of the drain swallowing the last liter stirs you from your blank thoughts.

You stand and give the tub a quick rinse- then pat yourself dry with a fresh towel and grab your empty mug. There’s an uncomfortable feeling tugging at your chest the closer you draw to the kitchen, and your phone. Like you can’t reach it fast enough in hopes the unease will go away if you look at it.

Setting your mug down in the sink and letting some water run into the bottom, you side eye your phone. Sitting there right where you left it, incriminating and imposing beside the coffee pot. There’s a little text bubble icon on your lockscreen when you tap the screen and illuminate it, staring back at you. You don’t have to unlock it to know who it’s from. Swiping it from the counter in all of your stark naked glory, you carry it back to your bedroom and toss it onto your bedspread without checking it.

At least you can wear your favorite lounge clothes and curl up on your bed while you feel awful. After you dress, just to procrastinate, you even sit down at your vanity to put on some extra moisturizer and toner and use a spa roller.

Eventually, the feeling in your chest scalds to an unbearable degree. You can’t ignore it any longer, throwing yourself onto your bed like a petulant child.

Sure enough, the message is from Junmyeon. Luckily, it’s simple. A sufficient _‘hello beautiful’_ with a smiley face.

You can hear his voice saying it in your head, and it makes the corner of your lips tick upward just slightly. It makes you feel a little better. Junmyeon makes you feel a little better. He is good for you, and you know it…

But what about the rest of it? Your personal problems when your moods shift like the sands and your mental health status. The things that make you worry and fear and you want to keep from him for as long as possible so they won’t ruin whatever this is that you have with him.

He doesn’t deserve anything except the very best. What if he gets too close and you snap and then he goes running? Of course you don’t want that, it would only put you in a worse place. A place you’re doing your best to forget and move on from.

A slight pain in your jaw tears you from the cloud of your thoughts, realizing you were clenching it too tightly again. With practiced ease you release the tension, letting your mouth hang open and rotating the hinge. Idly, you check the time on your phone. Nearly one-thirty.

Staring at the device, you watch as the illumination dims. Just before it goes black completely, it lights up with a goofy picture of you and Soohyun. He’s calling you, and you fidget, hesitating to answer it.

The moment you decide to pick it up, you’ve already missed it.

Instead, you curl in on yourself and try to focus. You try to talk yourself into going to dinner still, but ultimately know your resolve is weak.

Before you move, forty minutes has gone by and there’s a knocking at your door.

The sound confuses you, and you swiftly move from your bed to check it. An oddly shaped Soohyun is staring back into the peephole, his nose looking far larger than the rest of his face, and it makes you laugh.

He is loud from the moment you unlock the deadbolt, swinging into your apartment in his work clothes. Only his apron is missing as he waltzes in and swings you up in a hug.

Immediately, you protest, “Get off of me, I’m clean!”

He grins at you, setting your feet gently back on the wood of your kitchen floor. “Good afternoon to you too, and thanks for picking up my call?” he chides.

It earns him a slap to the arm, but as usual nothing can bring down his mood and he only laughs at his own punishment.

While he settles, you turn away and gesture to the now cold coffee pot. He loves cold coffee anyway, excitedly nodding his head when you gesture to the machine in offering.

Soohyun is at home in your apartment, much the same as you are in his. You watch him silently as he flits about your kitchen, grabbing his favorite glass, adding ice and draining the last of the coffee from the pot.

Graciously, he sets the decanter in the sink and fills it with water before he joins you on the couch.

“What’s up?” you ask sheepishly. His awareness of you makes you anxious suddenly. It’s been like that for a long time, even with medication.

Your knees join your chest, not bothering to look up from the floor or hide your mood from him.

Soohyun sips the coffee, “I wanted to see if you wanted to come hang out back at my place before we go to dinner… if you were still interested.”

His voice and tone give nothing away. Perhaps there isn’t anything to give at all, because you know he is not judging you for anything. Although he doesn’t have the same struggles you do, he respects you enough and understands that you sometimes have trouble. He doesn’t love you any less because of it.

“I’m so-”

“Don’t say it.” he clips before you can finish the word.

Your mouth snaps shut and you turn, foolish. “Okay.” you say instead after a moment.

“Do you want me to leave? If it’s not a good time that’s fine, too.” he offers instead, posture relaxed.

You shake your head, “No, you’re alright. I don’t mind the company, as long as you don’t mind my mood.”

Soohyun takes a large mouthful in pause before asking, “I don’t mind at all. Did you want to talk about something?”

You’re about to reply when your phone rings from where you left it on the kitchen counter again to answer the door, and you’re up off the couch to answer it. It’s Junmyeon.

“Hello?”

“Hello beautiful.” His voice is tired and stressed as it meets your ear from the receiver. You walk back to the couch with it pressed to your skull. He must be so exhausted, but his care and affection for you makes you warm.

“Are you having a good day?” he asks, and you smile. Soohyun is listening to you intently, pretending to be vastly more interested in his own phone than your conversation.

You sigh, “It’s just been a normal day. How are _you_ , you sound stressed…”

You strain to hear Junmyeon’s dark chuckle over the phone. It’s hard to concentrate on his voice with the background noise; a movie playing perhaps?

“Junmyeon?”

“I don’t know. They got what they got.” he answers cryptically.

You frown, “What does that mean? Are you alright?”

He sighs, “I’ll be okay. I just wanted to hear your voice before I try to go to sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

You can hear the laugh again. A laugh you’re coming to understand means the opposite of what a laugh usually means. An uninspired one.

“I have to be sure.”

You don’t press him on the issue, “Okay. Are you going to sleep now?”

He hums, “Yeah. We just reached cruising altitude.”

“That’s good. I hope you sleep well. I’ll see you when you get back, okay? I’m off tomorrow night.”

“Mmm.” your lover replies.

You think he’s going to say goodbye, but he chooses a different direction, “I want to come over.”

A smile stirs upon your lips, he sounds so sleepy.

“Junmyeon, I don’t know if that’s a great idea. What about the media?”

“I don’t care, I just want to see you…I will be careful.” he murmurs, voice sulky at your answer.

You laugh gently, “I want to see you, too. We’ll see. For now, please rest well. Get sleep.”

He hums again, “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon. Sleep now.”

Removing the phone from your ear, you end the call and look at Soohyun. He’s staring straight at you with a grin plastered onto his face.

You hold a single finger up to your lips, prompting him to grunt and sip at his drink, pointedly looking away. Just as you think is going to abide by your rule- he speaks.

“I see things are still about the same in that lane.”

Huffing a sigh, you dramatically wipe your hands down your face. You groan, “It’s complicated.”

Soohyun huffs this time, surprising you, “Do you know that you just keep saying it’s complicated every time someone questions you?”

Brows furrowing, you pull your lip between your teeth, “Well, it _is._ ”

“Do you _like_ it being complicated? Seems to me it’s pretty frustrating and stressful on both of you.” he laughs gently and he narrows his eyes at you.

“Of course not. I just don’t know how to fix it.”

Soohyun sets his now empty glass on the shiny wood of your freshly cleaned coffee table before turning to face you completely. “Sure you do.”

Now you’re just confused, “If I knew how to fix it, I would.”

He barks a laugh that only sounds a little patronizing, “That’s the thing. You do know how to fix it. You just don’t want to because you’re afraid.”

You know Soohyun isn’t trying to be arrogant or mean, but his words still sting.

With your silence, he continues, “You’re afraid of the unknown, Y/N. You always have been. You’re always thinking a dozen steps ahead for your future and the things that are unknown and you have zero control over are not welcome in that equation. It drives you crazy not knowing what is going to happen with your relationship.”

“We’re not in a _relationship_.” you quip sharply.

“But you _want_ to be!” Soohyun smiles wide, voice rising just a bit with his exasperation. His hand sweeps out over the coffee table as he explains. “Don’t even try to tell me you don’t want that. I know you, and I’m hearing enough from Sehun that 'Myeon wants that, too.”

You roll your eyes defensively, trying to change the subject, “You and Sehun have gotten close.”

He smirks at you and tilts his head, and his gaze is unsettling to your nerves. “Besides, it takes both of us. I’m not the only one struggling with this.” you say just to fill the unnerving silence with word vomit.

“I know.” he nods slowly.

“So what if I decide I want to try it? What do I do if he doesn’t?” you ask with a pout. It calls attention to the lump in your throat when you say it- you hadn’t realized it was forming.

Soohyun looks at you fondly, “Have you been listening to _anything_ that man has said over the last few weeks, my dear?”

Serving him a look that says he’s about to regret talking to you like a child, you wait.

Proud of himself for getting a rise out of you, he answers, “I’m sure if you said you wanted that, he would be all in. From what I understand, you’re the only one who is letting the _'what if’_ unknowns stop you.”

“But I-” you try.

“But _nothing!_ ” Soohyun comments loudly, holding up a hand, “Are you really going to let the unknown possibilities stop you from enjoying what’s right in front of you? I’ve seen enough and heard enough to know there’s a wonderful person standing in front of you. Someone who, by the way, could have anyone they wanted, and is choosing you and all of your crazy talk of the unknown bullshit.”

Stunned, you blink at him.

“I’m sorry.” Soohyun says, voice lowering, “It’s very frustrating for the people that love the both of you, too. It’s hard to watch your self torment stop you.” When you don’t respond right away, he adds, “It’s frustrating for Sehun and the others, too.”

“Won’t I regret it though if we don’t work out?” you ask him, face serious.

Soohyun coos at you, “I don’t know. You don’t know, and he surely doesn’t know, and you will never know.” You consider his words for a moment, “By the way- you’re never going to find out if you don’t do it, either. Do you want to be stuck wondering if there would have been regret if you never even take the leap to find out? You’re so set on getting answers that you stop yourself from even trying to answer the question, skipping it completely.”

Your eyes widen, and he makes perfect sense. He’s right- if you don’t try, you’ll never know. It’s a revelation, making you physically bring your hands to your mouth as you stare at him with your doe eyes.

He smiles at you, knowing he got through.

“Now that you understand, let me ask you something, you goof.” he snickers.

It earns him a playful smack on the leg.

“Have you enjoyed the last few weeks of talking to him, even though he hasn’t physically been here? Even if you’re not actively in conversation- do you still look forward to his texts and communication?”

You don’t need to answer him with words as the smile softens your tense features.

“Do you want to be with him?”

“ _Yes._ ” you murmur immediately, gaze resolute as it flicks up to meet the depths of Soohyun’s dark eyes.

“Okay. Then what happens if you let the unknown eat at you and let him go? You’ll still want to be with him, but you might have to see him with someone else someday. Surely then you’ll be wondering and regretting and hurt because you never found the answer.”

He pauses, but holds up a hand that he isn’t done. “Now, as your best friend, I can’t just sit here and be okay with that. It’s my job to talk some sense into you, Y/N. I am going to tell you right now, from my perspective, you have never been this invested in another person like this. Even your last real boyfriend didn’t have this big of an affect on you over, what was it… a year? Fourteen months?”

He looks at you pointedly, driving home his point. “From another outsider’s perspective, Sehun says much of the same.”

You cut in, “Oh my god, what are we to you two, a soap opera? Don’t you have anything better to talk about than someone else’s love life?”

He chuckles, pulling a laugh from you in return and resuming his monologue, “Shut up, we love to talk about you two. As I was saying, he can assure you that Junmyeon has never met someone like this, either. They’ve been best friends for long enough that his word has credibility.”

You’re softly smiling at him by the time he finishes, “He’s not the type of guy to be really into all of that.”

Soohyun claps his hands, “See, that’s my point. If you know he’s not the type to be creeping into people’s DMs and sleeping around a lot, why are you having such a hard time understanding how much you affect him, too?”

“I see it.”

“Then why are you hesitating and driving you both insane?”

You frown, picking at your fingernails, “I don’t want to hurt him.”

Soohyun’s posture freezes, his lips dropping to match your own expression. “Why do you think you’d hurt him?” he asks, but you feel like he knows the answer.

You stare at him pointedly before your gaze wanders to the kitchen and lands on the prescription bottle on the counter.

“Does he know?” Soohyun asks calmly.

Shaking your head, you reply, projecting your voice around the ball in your throat, “Why would I tell him?”

Your best friend smiles softly at you, quietly taking your hand that is closest to him and holding it so you’ll stop picking your nails, “It’s not my business how you handle that, but it might be worth considering to tell him about if you want a relationship with him. It might make it easier for him to understand you sometimes.”

You nod, not really sure what to say. Instead, “I don’t want to put that kind of pressure on him, either. He’s already under so much stress.”

Soohyun releases one breath quickly through his nose, “I think you are what relieves his stress- not just in that way, either!” he clarifies, “I think it might stress him out less to know and I imagine he would be understanding, but that’s just my opinion.”

“It’s still scary. When someone knows you that personally.”

He whispers, patting your hand, “It’s a sign of weakness to you. Y/N, I know I’m one of the only people who knows, but I think getting help and taking medication takes a lot of strength and not at all a weakness. Hell, it takes a lot of courage to admit it to yourself, right?”

Nodding, you lean into him, “Yeah.”

“Let me ask you one more time, do you want to be with him? _Totally?_ Like exclusively?” he asks into your hair, pulling his arm around you.

You don’t care anymore that he smells like work and you’re clean. This time, you can’t get your voice through the weight of your throat, so you nod into his frame, rubbing your face against his shirt.

“Then do it, okay?” he presses his lips against the side of your head.

You nod again, just leaning into his warmth and letting the silence settle over you.

Eventually, Soohyun gently removes you, “Are you still going to be boujee and get some damn good food with me?”

His question makes you laugh. You know this man well enough to already assume he would ask you this once the conversation lulled. The feeling in your chest isn’t as heavy as it was before, and you realize that sulking around your apartment all afternoon isn’t going to do anything for your well being.

Instead, you allow Soohyun to talk you into wearing a dress that you hate but has always brought you good luck. He has enough time to shower in your bathroom and rummage through your closet for a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie of his that you swear you never stole while you do your makeup.

He buys you an iced americano from the cafe across the street from your apartment building before you’re comfortably weaving through the throngs of people on the subway system this afternoon.

It takes seven minutes to reach his apartment. Even though you hate it because of how congested the area gets, you admit there is a convenience for Soohyun to live in an apartment mere steps away from one of the busiest subway terminals in the city. Especially for someone who is perpetually pushing the clock to be on time.

The moment the door is unlocked, Mingho is standing in the entryway, meowing in greeting and running forward to twist herself back and forth between Soohyun’s legs with affection. Her spotted fur shines in the afternoon light cutting across the room from the living room window, and her purring grows in volume when he scoops her up to cuddle as he walks to his room.

Just as at home here as you are in your own apartment, you peek toward her food bowl and notice it’s empty. You look down the hallway from the kitchen to see her jump off of his bed just as you open the pantry and shake her food container.

“Thanks!” Soohyun calls to you from his room, already flinging his hoodie off to find an appropriate outfit for the evening.

Mingho winds herself between your legs as you place a scoop of food into her bowl. She immediately begins to eat, raising her rear into the air as you scratch gently down her back.

______________________________________

You wake with a groan. You remember walking into your apartment at midnight and falling into bed shortly after. While you had expected to be home after dark last night, you had hoped you would at least be home with enough time to get a solid eight hours of sleep before your brunch shift this morning. No such luck.

Rather, you’re ensuring you’re showered and decent and quickly standing in an impossibly crowded subway car so you can get to work on time.

You hadn’t bothered with breakfast this morning and are barely sipping on your coffee, still too full from the amount of food you had consumed with Soohyun and his friend Beomsuk last night. His friend Beomsuk… who was very tall and very handsome and very much interested in you.

On the ride home, Soohyun swore up and down he had no idea, and you were sure he was telling the truth. You had only kindly declined his invitation to bring only you back to the restaurant as a date under the guise of your busy schedule. You’re extremely cautious now, too afraid to confirm that you have someone special to you in the event someone would try to find out who that special person might be.

Shaking your head, you think back to how it might have swayed you differently before you met Junmyeon. Perhaps you would have let him whisk you off into the night or played with him. Now, nobody else on the face of the planet even compares.

The rest of the morning drones on slowly, just like that. The money is good, filtered through the hands of a crowd of business people having meetings over brunch and lunch. It’s still a little slow for your usual pace, but you don’t mind when you walk out into the afternoon sun with a wad of cash on par with your average for an early day shift.

Your stomach feels empty now, having worked off majority of the food baby. The cafe across the street from your building suffices enough, stepping into the shade and removing your sunglasses. Their bagels have always been delicious and fresh. You order one with your favorite flavor of cream cheese spread.

Walking up to your apartment door, you let the last half of the bread hang out of your mouth so you can use your hands to unlock your door. When the door clicks shut behind you, a tension you didn’t know you’d been carrying leaves your shoulders.

You kick off your shoes and use one foot to slide them neatly into place on the mat before tossing your trash into the bin in the kitchen. Even though you just showered, you smell a bit like food and old people’s cologne from walking through clouds of it over and over again at the restaurant.

While you’re in the shower, your phone rings. Obviously, you can’t answer it, but you hasten your routine. While you wrap your towel around yourself and wipe a hand over the fogged mirror, you check it. It was Junmyeon.

You swipe to call him back right away, pressing your thumb into the speaker button and setting it on your vanity as you dry yourself and find some comfortable clothes to wear. You don’t plan on going anywhere for the rest of the day.

“Y/N?” he says after the first ring. His voice sounds painful and sad.

“What’s wrong?” you ask immediately, staring a frown into the device.

There’s only the sound of him catching his breath for a moment, then, “I don’t know. I’m just really stressed out.”

“Where are you?” you ask. He said he was stressed when you talked to him yesterday, too.

“Out.” he murmurs.

You sigh, “ _Where?_ Do you want to come over here?” You wait for an answer while you pull on your panties and pull up the straps of your bra.

He sucks in a breath from the other end of the line, breathing hard. It sounds like he’s outside. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

Instantly you pick up your phone, swiping the call to the edge of the screen so you can access your display. You type in your address into the message box and send it to him.

“I want to see you, even when you’re stressed out.” you say quietly, stuffing your head and arms through the wide holes of a thin camisole. Your legs follow suit in a pair of distressed denim shorts that hug your hips just right.

The notion that you care enough to want to fix it for him dawns on you. The realization that you want to do anything to make him smile and not be stressed and worried. You want to give him strength and support. Your heart is thunderous in your chest suddenly and your voice seems gone.

After the moment of panic passes and you calm enough to speak, you take a deep breath.

You ask when he says nothing, “ _Junmyeon?_ ” You swallow and take the leap.

“ _Yeah?_ ” he replies softly.

“How can I be a good girlfriend to you if you won’t let me try to help you when you’re not feeling your best?” The questions puts a halt to your breath, picking at your nails and furrowing your brow as you wait anxiously.

There’s silence on the other end of the line. Not even the sound of his breathing as you imagine he may have pulled his phone away from his ear to look at it suspiciously.

“How am I supposed to help you feel better and support you when you won’t let me?” you ask again, nervous by his lack of response.

He makes a sound like an unbelievable chuckle into the receiver, “…Does that mean what I think it means?”

You smile at the sound of his voice. It’s still small and shallow, but there’s not as much sadness to his tone.

“That depends on what you think it means.”

Junmyeon hums, “You’re willing to give us a real shot?”

“Do you want to?” you ask with a hint of apprehension in your throat.

“ _Yes._ ” he whispers immediately. The word sends such a sense of relief washing through your body you’re vaguely aware you have to blink several times to disperse the moisture pooling at the rims of your eyes.

“Then I guess that makes us together, doesn’t it?” you comment breathily, pulling your wet hair into a loose bun on top of your head.

You can hear him smile through the phone, swallowing a sound you can’t place, “What changed your mind?”

You sigh, picking up your phone and carrying it to the kitchen with you, “Did you know our best friends are wholly invested in our relationship and talk about us a lot?”

Junmyeon laughs loudly on his end, “I assumed as much. Sehun has been complaining a lot about us. In a good way though, like he really wants us together.”

“Hm…” you agree, “Same on my end.” There’s a sound from the other side of your front door, just down the hall.

“Hey Y/N?” he asks. His voice drops again, like he is tired.

A sound that tells him you’re still listening lulls through the phone. Waiting for his question, you pour yourself a glass of water and stare at the bottle of pills on the counter beside the coffee pot. The pills you’ll have to tell him about if you’re really trying to give this your all. It terrifies you.

“Can you open the door?” he asks unexpectedly.

Your head whips to the door not five feet from you- the sound was him? You don’t bother replying to him verbally, instead crossing the space easily to fling the door open.

“How did you get here so fast?” you gawk at him, checking the hallway for your neighbors before you pull him inside. There’s a dark hat and a pair of oversized black sunglasses hiding his face. He looks casual otherwise, wearing a branded baby blue hoodie, black athletic pants and a pair of black slides. In the middle of Summer.

He melts into you instantly, “Don’t kill Soohyun, okay?”

You know where he’s going with the remark, but you raise one brow at him expectantly.

“A week ago he may have told me the name of your apartment building just in case there was an emergency. He didn’t tell me what number though.” he says sheepishly.

“I see.” you say, not caring about it anymore. Junmyeon was here now, like you wanted him to be. He puts his shoes beside yours at the door and follows you into the kitchen, “Would you like something to drink?”

He removes his hat and sunglasses, shaking his hair free, “No, thank you. I just wanted to see you.” You take a mild sip and place your glass of water back on the counter.

Smiling, you don’t give in to him just yet. “Okay. I’m here, so now do you want to tell me what’s been bothering you?” you try, taking his hand and leading him to the couch.

He looks away from you, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and rolling one string of his hood between his fingers idly, “The interview didn’t go well.” he finally whispers after a moment.

You frown, “What happened?” You lean toward him and Junmyeon reaches for you, pulling you to tuck against his side. He sighs and relaxes a little, pressing his cheek against the damp coolness of your hair.

You wait for him to tell you, letting your fingers play with the opposite string of his hoodie and pulling your feet up on the couch.

“Being an idol is one thing. Being in a relationship is another…it,” he pauses, trying to find the proper words to explain. Eventually, he gives a frustrated sigh, “You have to cater to the fans as an idol. I love our EXO-Ls, don’t get me wrong. But it doesn’t make me feel good to give them false hope, either.”

You remain silent, letting him get out his words before you comment.

“I can’t easily say fanservice comments anymore about marrying them or about loving them most in the universe. It feels like a really shitty and shallow thing to do, and it bothers me more than I thought it would.” he reveals.

“I understand.” you answer carefully.

He pulls you tighter, wrapping both arms around you, nearly tugging you into his lap, “But the interviewer asked us questions along those lines and I had a really hard time playing to it. I reacted poorly and we had to do a second take and I had to act like it was fine. It was embarrassing and our manager made the interviewer sign a nondisclosure about the incident.”

The explanation has your stomach dropping through the floor. You push up from his body and meet his eyes. He’s clearly upset but you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do in this situation.

“I had to have a meeting with SM about it. About you, and me.” you want to cry. There’s no way after all of the internal struggle to come to terms with wanting and trying to have a half way normal relationship, it’s going to be taken from you. Obviously he would have to choose being an idol. It wouldn’t even be a competition for you.

“ _Oh._ ” you croak, blinking.

He pulls you back forcefully, “I told them I’d be fine. I didn’t know I would react that way… it’s my first time even trying to have some semblance of normal.”

You’re worried but his sentiment makes your smile a little nonetheless.

“I’m not the only one going through this. I talked to the other member about it, too, and he gave me a lot of advice.” he adds.

Your brows furrow, “Someone else in your group is in a relationship?” It makes you feel much better knowing he wouldn’t have to choose between his career and you.

“Oh, sure. There are lots of labelmates that are in relationships, but yeah, another EXO member is.” he clarifies against your head.

Pouting, you ask, “ _Who?_ ”

You can feel his smile against your temple, “I want you to guess.”

Scoffing, you accept his challenge, “Jongin or Baekhyun?” It was educated, considering their previous relationships. It was more than likely one of them.

“Nope.”

You think a little harder on it. Most of the others seem to shy or too busy. You think back to the last time you saw them, all at karaoke. Was anyone glued to their phone or giving away hints? You may have missed a clue when you went to the bathroo- _oh._

“It’s Jongdae.” you state matter-of-factly.

Junmyeon stills, “How did you guess that?”

You laugh, “Last time, he made a comment about you and I being in a relationship right before you came out to find me and he said it in a weird way? Now that I think back about it, it was in a way that said he knew what it was like to struggle like we do.”

Junmyeon huffs, “I understand.”

You want to ask, now that it’s been brought up, “Is that why you knew we weren’t talking about anything weird in the hallway? Why you knew for sure Jongdae wasn’t into me?”

It’s his turn to chuckle softly, “Yes.”

You feel foolish, “I’m sorry I said you were jealous then.”

He laughs louder, smiling a bit more, “It’s okay. You’re _right_ , I can get jealous. Especially when we were not exclusively together yet- the idea of anyone else being interested in you made me very frustrated.”

“But your own members though? That seems a bit unlikely.”

He pouts at you, “When Baekhyun and Jongin first invited you over I didn’t like it. I thought they might try to steal you from me.”

You laugh obnoxiously this time, covering your mouth, “I _knew_ something was wrong! I felt you stiffen up!”

Both of you are grinning like idiots now, “Don’t worry. I’m happy to be friendly with everyone but I’m only interested in one person.”

“Oh?” he inquires, “Who might that be?”

Your grin is playful, “Oh just some guy. He’s like the leader of this band of chaotic singers or something, I don’t know.” You add a shrug to the end to emphasize your feigned nonchalance.

“I better make sure I let him know you’re mine, then, right?” he smirks with one brow cocked upward, face leaning closer to kiss at your lips.

You push back at him, making him lean back into his seat on the couch, “Later. Right now, I want to take all of that stress away for you.”

He pouts, “You don’t have to do anything, I’ll be okay.”

Shaking your head, you stand from the couch and make yourself comfortable between his knees on the floor, “I want to. You work so hard, let me take care of you, please.”

The way the words unfurl from your mouth has Junmyeon complying in no time at all. He quickly shuts up, letting your hands creep up his thighs slowly. It doesn’t take long for your fingers to wander, slipping beneath the fabric of his hoodie to grasp the waistband of his pants. You let them pause, heating with the warmth of his skin.

He smiles lazily at you, “You’re so pretty.” he whispers just audibly enough.

His compliment makes you smile, teasing him by laying your cheek against his thigh. You mouth rests just beside the place you want, letting him twitch to life from the anticipation alone.

You sigh, letting your chin turn upward gently to rest over the area, looking directly at Junmyeon. A grin tugs at your lips, feeling the proof of his growing arousal. His eyes are on your lips, his own pouted open.

At an agonizingly slow pace, you pull at his pants. He helps you guide them down, lifting his buttocks from the relaxing hold of your couch. You want Junmyeon to enjoy this. Enjoy it messily and without delay, throwing caution and propriety out of reach. You want him aching and swollen and ready to burst. You want to see him forget about his stress and fall up into cloud nine.

With these thoughts in mind you drag the athletic pants until they are around his ankles along with his boxers. You attention remains focused on him, almost all the way hard against his thigh just where your face was.

Gently, you let your fingers smooth back up and over his knees, your mouth quick to follow the path until you force his knees apart as best you can. So far, he seems to have no complaints about your control over him.

His breath hitches at the first touch of your warm fingers against his cock, loosely gripping around the base. It doesn’t take long for him to gain full rigidity in your soft grasp. Subconsciously, your lips pout, realizing this may not last as long as you hoped.

He laughs quietly, squirming in your grip.

“ _What?_ ” you ask with a silly smile, eyes wide.

He smiles, lifting one hand to poke at your lip, “It shouldn’t be cute but you pouting at me in this kind of situation turns me on.”

You huff indignantly, instead angling yourself toward him and kissing the tip to shut him up. It’s super effective, and Junmyeon can only suck his lip between his teeth and stare as you set to work.

You’re determined to give him the best orgasm of his life, slowly sinking your wet mouth over him, letting your lips envelop him fully and lowering until he hits the back of your throat.

He moans softly, and you can hear the sound of his head falling back against the plush cushion. You want to smirk or look up and see his face, but you remain focused on your mission.

Slowly, you repeat the motion several times, listening intently to the increasing respiration of your lover. You let your nails softly scratch over his hip or abs while the other remains holding the base of him, occasionally pumping to match the rhythm of your mouth.

Too quickly for your liking, Junmyeon seems close. His abs are twitching beneath your palm, stuffed under his hoodie, and the muscles in his thighs are quivering slightly. His mouth spills beautiful sounds of pleasure as you take him deeper. Relaxing your throat, his length slides past with mild effort until your nose is pressed into his skin and he keens.

Swallowing once, he whimpers out a weak _'fuck’_ with a ragged breath. You can feel his abs clench as he tries not to sit up and curl himself over your body to bring you closer.

His hands have behaved all this time until he collects a bundle of your hair and makes a soft fist, trying to control your pace.

Instantly, you’re rising off of him, forcing his hand from your head. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, giving him a stern look of pure mischief.

“No.” you say, “Keep your hands to yourself until I say so.” You like the authoritative sound of your voice, and love the look he serves you at your instructions. His eyes suddenly seem to sparkle.

He doesn’t say anything about it, apparently accepting your words as law. Rather, he licks his red bitten lips and lets his eyes flick down to the shining head of his cock, glistening with your saliva as if to ask what you’re waiting for.

As punishment, you purse your lips and blow cool air onto him gently. His answering hiss makes him get the picture and settle back against the couch. Immediately, you’re back on him.

The whine that pitches up his throat has your core clenching around emptiness, but you ignore it in favor of bringing him bliss. Hollowing your cheeks, you continue your onslaught, sucking and swallowing around him until he’s a shaking mess in your hold.

Before he can reach his high, you back off, gripping the base of him tightly. Junmyeon cries softly, “Wha… what _don’t_ stop, _please._ ” His head flops back to the couch cushion again and he puffs out his cheeks to catch his breath.

You shush him, letting the nails of your free hand drag a little harder against his hip and thigh to distract him as you kiss the head of his cock, angry and red.

He’s panting, stuffing a hand into his hair to sweep it back off of his forehead. He lifts his head, blinking rapidly down at you with furrowed brows, you can feel his hips flexing against your arm as he tries to create friction and control himself all at once.

“Please, sweetheart, I can’t.” he breathes.

You smile at him, reassuring, “Yes you can, just relax and calm down.”

Junmyeon tries his best for you, letting his body sag back into the cushion and breathing deeply with his eyes closed. His fingers jerk and flutter at his sides.

Once you think it’s safe, you resume slowly. Relaxing the tight grip you have of him, you let your mouth descend upon him again. You kiss, lick and tease him with gentle stimulation. The sounds you’re creating together are obscene, and it paints an instantaneous flush over your skin. You’re so warm and you can feel your own arousal pooling.

Junmyeon is having a hard time controlling his body from the small spasms of pleasure beginning to curl his toes. The most sinful groan drops from his lips as he feels you lips wrap around his wet, aching cock once more. Your pace is much slower but you don’t think he’s complaining.

The sound of your lips gliding over his slicked skin are tearing you apart and setting your body on fire. You can feel his thighs quaking and his hips softly lifting as he comes close to the edge again.

He dips his head back, “I need to come.” he warns, voice quiet and strained through the tension in his jaw.

So you ease yourself back off of him, kissing at his thighs while you wrap your hand tightly around the base of him once again. Fascinated with the strong feeling of his pulse from his cock, you go to war with yourself on what is better to stare at. His perfect manhood, angrily flushed and swollen, leaking and soaked from your mouth. Or his face, spun up in a tragic pout as his mouth hangs, seemingly unhinged from his jaw. His abs flutter when you pass your palm over them. He groans sourly but it still sounds so delicious.

“You’re so pretty.” you murmur back to him, mirroring his earlier sentiment to you with a saccharine smile. He tries and fails miserably to smirk at you, whimpering when you give him one tiny, shallow stroke up from the base.

“Too m-much.” he blurts out, hardly able to keep himself all the way seated against the couch holding his twitching form.

You feel powerful having reduced such a man to a mess of quivering whimpers, a mess of pleasure just for you. It makes you feel good, and it feels even sweeter to know Junmyeon will get the relief he so desperately needs. It feels like lightning courses through your being, vibrating with excitement as you smile, lowering your mouth over him again.

He cries out this time, an exclamation of pleasure and he cannot contain his jittery limbs anymore as his hand finds its way into your hair. He doesn’t try to control your head though- choosing instead to gently push the hair that has fallen into your eyes from your loose hairstyle as it dries. You allow it, cherishing it even more as you lift your eyes up to see he’s slouched over, head tilted against his own shoulder to watch you almost choke on his cock over and over again.

“P-please… _oh,my god, please_ , I want to c-come.” he comments with lips apparently too loose to form words as sharply as he normally does.

Your fingers spread over his thighs, feeling them shaking as he pushes himself further back into your couch, reflexively raising his hips to bury himself impossibly deeper in your mouth.

You decide it’s enough, hollowing your cheeks and hastening your rhythm by just enough, sucking at his length lewdly until he’s moaning with every breath he takes. His body is hard and tense beneath you.

Flicking your eyes up to his, he whimpers, “ _Oh, god, yes… yes, fuck._ ”. You nearly choke as you try to take him back farther, your throat constricting around the bit of him that reaches. His eyes screw shut tightly and he mimics a face of pain until he releases the loudest groan you’ve ever heard from him, along with his impending release.

Even though the taste isn’t something you always enjoy, the act of giving a blowjob and seeing your lover fall apart in such an explicit way is something you don’t ever think you’ll dislike.

Junmyeon is a beautiful human being and a beautiful soul and you feel your own pleasure soaking your underwear as his orgasm rocks through him so completely. His body jerks, a tear spills from the corner of one eye, his lips are red and puffy and shiny as they split and release sounds that make you shiver with desire.

You feel triumphant when you rise, having brought him to such heights as he twitches with every inch you rise off of him until he slumps back and takes a single deep breath. A lopsided, easy grin is plastered onto his face, the apples of his cheeks dusted a warm rose. He’s looking at you through half-open eyes.

Your knee pops loudly in the following silence when you stand.You brush away his bangs from his forehead, dampened by a bit of sweat.

“Thank you.” he whispers reverently, taking your hand from his face to hold it to his chest.

His softness breaks a wide smile over your face. You feel so light and elated at having successfully released some of his tension. The urge to take care of him is strong, making it easier to ignore the desire to have him between your legs.

You rise from your place, “You’re welcome.” you whisper in reply. It feels like it would be too loud to talk at normal volumes in this space.

He reclines, moving a hand into his hair as he releases your hand, smiling to himself sweetly as he watches you move. With his eyes fixed on your form, he looks your way until you disappear into the bathroom. He can hear the water running and the sound of scrubbing. You must be brushing your teeth.

When you emerge from the hall with a damp cloth, you sit beside him again, letting the warmth run over first his thighs and then his softened manhood. Junmyeon twitches and sucks in a sharp breath but doesn’t move or say anything otherwise until you’re finished.

With warm and gentle hands he pulls the cloth from your fingers and toes off the pile of clothing tangled around his feet. The rag joins his pants on the floor, followed by his hoodie as he rips it over his head.

No words are said as he slowly clasps one of your wrists and guides you to sit, fully clothed, over his lap. His palms are warm where they settle against one hip and the opposite side of your ribs.

You make a sound of surprise as the flavor of his lips meets yours, unexpected yet delightfully fruity. Junmyeon grins, holding you so delicately in his arms. His kisses are slow and grow in depth as he sweeps his tongue along the seam of your lips.

Complying, your arms settle around his shoulders, fingers playing with the hair that sweeps across the nape of his neck, cupping his jaw softly, anywhere you can reach to caress your adoration for him against his skin.

He groans softly at the heat of your body pressed against him, and his fingers skim below the edges of your camisole, lifting slowly in a silent plea.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to.” you whisper against his lips, turning your head to press your cheek against his.

You feel more than see Junmyeon smile against your face, “I want to. I just need a minute to recover.” He laughs quietly.

Your heart leaps as you realize you can hear his smile in his voice. Lifting your head, you grin back at him with a nod. He wastes no time in slowly peeling your top off and flinging it to the floor with the rest of the clothing.

Junmyeon kisses you again, hungrily this time, as if the growing exposure of your soft skin is more than he can bear to control himself over. He cups the back of your neck, pulling you to lean into him smoothly until his mouth can reach your shoulder easily.

He kisses, some chaste, mostly open mouthed and warm, from the side of your neck, down your shoulder, pulling the strap of your bra down your arm until his trailing mouth reaches the joint. His hand slides up your side, over your ribs until he’s cupping the swell of your breast over the clothing.

In one smooth motion he pulls the cup down until he can easily grasp the fullness of it without clothing, and he moans softly as his mouth freely descends over your nipple.

You gasp and whine against him, pushing your chest further into his delicious mouth. His tongue, skilled and wet, rolls over the bud until it’s peaked. He releases momentarily to plant a kiss directly over it, making you shiver against him.

Impatient, you break out of his loose grasp, sitting up to reach behind you and fling the offending garment from your body. You smile against one another’s mouths, claiming each others breaths until his hands slide up the back of your thighs.

His fingertips skim beneath your shorts, and the touch of them against the swell of your ass under the fabric shifts something in the both of you. A sudden urgency to be connected as you pull back to look at his face and watch him looking at you with the same desire and fascination.

It registers in your mind that he’s half hard beneath you, stiffening with his need to be buried in your warmth. Junmyeon’s breathing comes shallow now as his blood begins to race faster for you. His fingers ghost over your hips hurriedly, fumbling for the button of your shorts.

The moment he pops it you climb off of his lap to shove them to the floor along with your panties. As you do this, he adjusts, moving to recline his shoulders against the arm of your couch in a split second. His hands and mouth can’t find your skin fast enough when you try not to hurt him in your attempt to climb back into his lap.

The angle of his body forces you forward until your breasts are pressed firmly against his strong chest. He plants a messy kiss to the side of your neck as his hands find your hips as he takes himself in his hand, guiding himself back and forth through your wetness.

The repeated motion pulls a whimper from you and a groan from him, sucking in a breath as you plant your palm against his chest and sit back. You can’t wait any longer, having been so desperate for him for what feels like hours.

The relief of his cock filling you with no trouble is so intense it spills a tear from your eye. Below you, Junmyeon moans, digging his heels into the couch harder to let you fall back into his chest.

Neither of you move for a moment, just breathing and enjoying the pressure of your bodies pressed together completely.

Junmyeon is staring at you, his eyes wide and bright as he looks between each of your own with a fondness you simply bask in. You’ve learned when he looks at you like this, he sees you as a flower that only blooms for him, with him, because of him.

He slides himself out, almost completely, before just as slowly raising his hips to bury himself back inside of you. His gaze remains on your face, mirroring your pleasure on his.

You compliment his rhythm with your body, meeting him softly thrust for thrust. Small sounds of pleasure slip between you but the intimate moment is mostly filled with the sounds of your mingled panting. It won’t take you long to reach your high, you can feel how tightly wound you already are.

Junmyeon’s cheeks are flushed, his forehead damp with a sheen of sweat again as he closes his eyes and kisses you. One of his hands curls over the back of your neck to keep your lips against his.

He gives a particularly deep thrust, using the other hand clutching your hip to push you harder onto his lap with a groan. Driving on like this, you’re close.

You lift your head to breathe, settling your forehead against his own and closing your eyes. Every thrust pushes a soft gasp past your lips as he works your bodies in unison.

“Can you come like this?” he asks on a whisper against your cheek, checking. He can feel that you’re close, but isn’t sure if it’s enough to push you over the edge.

You nod, feeling the edges of your orgasm beginning to creep in. The air is humid in the space around you, all of the skin between you sticky with heat. Junmyeon tilts you further into him, sinking lower onto the couch so he can angle his hips better.

Just enough so he hits a place he’s never hit before. A spot that spins you rapidly toward your release as he hits it a second time and you cry out his name.

“ _Oh, fuck._ ” you whine in his ear, one of your hands tangling your fingers in the back of his hair. He hisses, brow furrowing in concentration with your tightening heat.

He thrusts sharply, pace becoming fast and hard into your heat, making a mess of his lap where you drip around him. So long you’ve waited for him. The explicit sound of your activity, the heat of his skin, the smell of his cologne and sweat. The taste of him on your lips, the closeness of his body, all things that propel you to cloud nine suddenly as if having launched to the sky on a rocket.

Junmyeon can feel you before you make a sound, squeezing him so tightly, your thighs shaking, your breath holding in small pants that you release with a gasp each time. Your body freezes on top of his until you cry loudly against his hair.

It’s beautiful, he thinks. You’re beautiful, surrounding him and surrendering to him like this. Shaking in his arms as he drives his cock deep into your perfect heat, your fingernails digging into his shoulder and tightening in his hair.

It’s the sound of his name falling like a prayer, a blessing and curse, gasped from your lips all at once that rips his orgasm from him suddenly. He groans, freeing a breathe he didn’t realize he’d been holding until he’s panting right along with you, riding his high.

In the back of his mind he takes note of how tired his body feels, how deeply his thighs ache from exertion. You laugh above him, your bodies stuck like glue as you bend to kiss him, carefree.

“You okay?” he asks you on impulse.

Nodding, you dip your head to kiss him again, “Never better.”

You bask with him in the moment, the post-sex glow that has you both smiling at one another, not minding the sweaty mess you’ve become there on your couch.

The moment he softens and slips from your core, you grimace. The slick mess you’ve made begins to ooze down the inside of your thigh onto his, and you look at him with a frown.

“Shower?” he offers, still grinning.

__________________________________________

You sleep the best you have in ages. The birds don’t wake you as easily today. Instead, all of your own, your body wakes you with an uncomfortably full bladder.

The soft snores beside you gain your attention. Junmyeon, your boyfriend, is sound asleep. His face is relaxed and peaceful. The sun envelops your room from the window, like always, shining across the floor and spilling its warmth onto your bed.

His dark hair is pushed partially off of his forehead and up onto the pillow. From where his cheek rests against the soft white of your linens, his face squishes adorably, and you stifle a giggle so you don’t wake him yet.

You’re reminded of your wish, to see him in your bed, uninterrupted. To steal those first glances of him, his skin and hair glowing with morning sunlight while he still sleeps. You feel wonderful in that moment, eyes mapping his face and memorizing everything about this moment, down to the heat of his body beside yours in your bed. The comfort of him being here. The sense of peace.

A rhythmic vibration comes from your dresser. You realize, sneaking out of bed, it’s his phone, plugged in and charging from the outlet beside the furniture. Glancing at him, he doesn’t move.

Approaching the device, you stand in the sunlight heating your carpet. You flex and wiggle your toes over the softness, reveling in the warmth as you peek at his phone. A selfie of himself with Sehun is illuminating the screen, a phone icon tilting from left to right in the center with Sehun’s contact information below it.

For a moment you debate answering it until it’s too late and it stops. It’s only when it repeats and Sehun calls him a second time do you decide to unplug it and carry it quickly to to the living room to answer it.

“ _Hello?_ ” you say gently into the receiver.

“ _Y/N?_ ” Sehun breathes, sounding relieved.

You look back at your open bedroom door, leaning back to further look inside at Junmyeon, who hasn’t moved an inch.

“Yeah, is everything okay?” you ask, walking to the kitchen. You glance at your medication on the counter. You should take it- but you need to relieve your bladder before you drink anything.

Turning back to the living room, Sehun answers you in a rush, “I’m assuming since you answered, he’s with you?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong?” you ask, leaning against the wall and looking out of a window, down at the street in front of your apartment.

Sehun sighs, “He just up and left and didn’t tell anyone where he was going and oh, I don’t know, hasn’t answered any of our texts or calls.”

You feel guilty suddenly, “Sehun I’m so sorry.”

“Even Soohyun didn’t know if he was with you. He said he tried to call you but you didn’t answer either. He told me if you didn’t answer this morning he was going to go to your place.”

Quickly and quietly, you fly back to your bedroom, leaning down to check your phone.

Sure enough, you’ve got seven missed calls from Soohyun and one from an unknown number. Twelve text messages accompany the notification bar. Majority are from Soohyun, but you read two of them are from the unknown number, telling you it’s Sehun and asking if Junmyeon is with you. Checking why you missed all of their attempts to reach you, you see your phone is on silent, somehow.

You breathe in deeply, “I’m sorry, my phone was on silent by accident.”

The idol is silent for a minute, “Just tell me he’s okay.” he demands softly after a moment.

Junmyeon, having heard noise, stirs in the sheets. His body curls in on itself slowly, his dark hair disappearing beneath the white covers before he stretches back out, his bare arms reaching over his head with a groan.

“Yeah, I think he’s okay now.” you say quietly.

Junmyeon rolls over, facing you and squinting one eye open. He smiles at you but frowns shortly after, seeing his phone pressed to your ear.

He sits up, quickly rubbing his eyes and holding out a hand.

“Hang on, he just woke up.” you comment, passing the phone over to him before climbing back on the bed.

His arm curls around your waist as you curl up next to him. He kisses your hair and you can hear Sehun from the other line yelling at him.

“Yes, yes, okay, I got it. My bad.” he groans, still half asleep.

You’ve come to learn Sehun doesn’t just get mad- he gets concerned. Angrily upset, when it comes to Junmyeon, his best friend, his brother, his leader. You can hear the fear in his voice, answered by Junmyeon’s soft assurance that he’s okay and he is sorry for making him worry.

“I just needed some space away.” your lover comments with a sigh, rubbing the warmth of his palm up and down your arm.

While you listen, you shoot Soohyun a text that everything is fine and he doesn’t need to come over and you’re sorry your phone was on silent. The anxiety of the situation fizzles out and you relax just to notice you still need to pee.

With a pout from him, you extract yourself to use the bathroom while he finishes his conversation, slumped over and groggy, rubbing his face.

He’s still on the phone when you emerge, so you head for the coffee pot. Your hands work on autopilot to fill the decanter with water, pour it in, spoon in the grounds, get out cups and click the _‘start’_ button.

Lost in thought, you pick up the imposing bottle of your medication where it rests beside the coffee pot. You reread the label over a few times, just as always, before unscrewing the safety cap and shaking one out into your palm. You make a mental note to order a refill soon, squinting one eye to look into the bottle and count how many are left.

Rough hands sliding around your waist startle you, dropping the bottle onto the counter and spilling some onto its surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU for reading my fic, Allotrope. :c
> 
> It really means a lot to get such great support for a fic that is something that started for me as a personal delve into the idea of idols being in real relationships with non-idols and what that might be like. Additionally, I love Kim Junmyeon a lot and he deserves the universe so I'm thrilled folks are reading this story, some even who don't know who he is! (WOW WHAT A COMPLIMENT)
> 
> Anyway, I love you.  
> Please look forward to the next part! We're more than half way now, but it still has more to come!


	5. Chapter 5

_“Shit,”_ you gasp quietly, freezing in Junmyeon’s hold- a stark contrast to the warmth of him.

He releases you momentarily, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He comes to your side against the counter, reaching to collect some of the pills.

Your heart leaps into your throat and your voice sounds harsh when you release the words on a breath, “No!”

Junmyeon stills as your chest heaves, gathering up the medicine and cradling them in your palm to slide them back into the bottle. Your hands are trembling and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

The embarrassment, anxiety, hurt, sadness, anger, confusion, all of it. All of the emotions you struggle with accepting while on this medication scream like alarms in your head whenever the bottle is open. As if to shut it up, you rush to jam the cap back on and can’t help how forcefully you toss it back onto the counter.

With a dull plastic thud it hits the surface, bouncing against the backsplash and rolling to a stop against the side of the coffee machine.

You turn away from it, resting your back against the cool edge of the counter and pulling your hands up to cover your face. You breathe, but tears begin falling silently regardless.

Junmyeon is still silent beside you, but you can hear him pick up the bottle from the counter. You can hear the pills sliding around inside of it gently as he examines it, but you are frozen, helpless to stop him from seeing. So much for being careful, you think. This is not at all how you planned to talk about this subject with him.

After a moment, you feel his hand come to rest against your back, softly rubbing up and down. Your head is pounding loudly so you don’t hear him until he has to repeat himself.

“Y/N, look at me. Please,” he asks, lips kissing the syllables into your shoulder gently. His palms are warm where they caress your arms, pulling you into his chest.

The warmth and kindness radiating from him tells you immediately that it’s okay. You know it is, but you cry harder.

“Hey.” he tries again quietly, fingers wiggling their way into the space between your own and your face, pulling your hands to his lips.

You turn your face, lifting an elbow to wipe the tears with your shoulder. Futile as more take their place. One peek at him makes your heart stop.

You expected him to be looking at you with pity or confusion or a surfaced smile telling you it’s okay. Perhaps he would look at you just as everyone else does, like they have no idea. Like there’s nothing wrong.

Not Junmyeon.

The sadness and heartbreak you see written on his features gives you pause.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out automatically, wincing at the way your voice croaks. You don’t really know why you’ve said it, but the expression he wears is one that pulled the words from you without thinking.

He brings you into his chest further, wrapping his arms around you fully and gently pulling your forehead to his shoulder, “You don’t ever have to be sorry for this.”

“What do you mean?” you mumble into his skin, breathing in the calm scent of him. It’s helping to ease your erratic breathing, and you feel your fight or flight instinct draining as the tears go from raining to leaking, slowing their expulsion from your eyes.

His lips touch your hair as he speaks, “For struggling.” He pauses briefly, kissing at your hair, then adding, “I used to take them, too.”

If Junmyeon were not fully aware of your body’s movements, he would have a lovely bruise on his face from the force of your head whipping up from his neck.

You stare at him, eyes narrowing, “Really?”

He can’t hide the way the corner of his mouth ticks up, sensing your incredulous shock, “Really. Not these exact ones, but something similar.”

Blinking, you look back at the bottle on the counter where he set it. It makes sense now why he looked heartbroken and sad moments ago. He gets it.

Reassuring, he eases you out of his embrace and holds you at arms length to take you in fully. Your lover makes no comment as he watches you. You clear your throat of the gumball inside of it.

“Thank you,” you whisper to him, your reservoir of tears suddenly refreshed as they pool along your eyes until the abundance of them slips down your heated cheeks.

Junmyeon melts, tugging you back into him. Only this time, you wrap your arms around his sturdy frame in return. His hands hold you close, slowly moving over you to soothe your woes.

“Why are you crying more?” he asks, and for only a moment do you hate that you can hear the slight smile in his voice.

You squeeze him hard in retaliation and he laughs quietly, twisting his neck to place a chaste kiss to your temple.

“I didn’t want to tell you like this,” you murmur against his clavicle.

“Why?” he coerces.

You lift your head from him but can’t make yourself look at his face while you speak. Rather, you lay your cheek against his chest, tucking your head under his chin, “Did you think it was a weakness?”

The implication of your question is not lost on him, and he pauses to consider your question. “Sometimes. Especially at first,” he confirms carefully.

“It’s been six years since I have felt like this, and it’s been three years since I began taking those,” you explain, “I have a lot of difficulty accepting that I need them even though they make me feel better.”

Junmyeon hums, the vibration of his throat tickling your ear. “I’m glad they make you feel better.”, he answers.

“I have a… really, hard time accepting that they help. I feel like they’re a false happiness, or chemicals that tell me to be content with complacency,” you convey quietly to him, “I have a plan for my life and goals and I hate that I have to have these to help me be happy.”

Your boyfriend remains steadfast, still holding you against him and listening. The steady beating of his heart grounds you. “I know you’ve probably heard this a lot, but it’s okay to need help sometimes.”

You scoff, “You’re right, I have heard that a lot,” pausing before you decide to add, “But the people I needed to hear that from the most were never the ones who said it. It really fucked me up.” Your voice cracks slightly and you clear your throat once more, smiling wistfully because you can’t stop yourself and you want to hide and you feel silly for crying over the past.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me what you mean, but I wi-” he replies until you cut him off.

“My ex. My Mom,” you quietly confess to him. Every word takes the edge off just enough to make you keep talking.

Junmyeon hears you loud and clear even though your voice is so quiet. His hands pause their gentle slide around your back. You remember suddenly, vividly, the way he was so attentive to your emotions the first night you slept together. Even in that brief moment when you mentioned your father, Junmyeon only served to soothe the ache accompanied by the pain.

You decide to tell him why you had such a fear of telling him. You try to keep it simple but the words just seem to spill forth uncontrollably in a vomit of syllables that break your heart, “My ex broke up with me over this. He put me through a lot of emotional and mental abuse over it. It was just to the edge, enough gas-lighting to make me believe I really was crazy, and that something was terribly wrong with me.” You’re surprised by how sturdy your voice sounds even though it quakes and tears roll down your cheeks on at a time.

Taking a deep breath, you willfully continue, “Soohyun tried to tell me constantly that it was toxic and unhealthy, but I was really lonely and it was my first and last serious relationship. I can’t say I’m happy with how it turned out but I think it made me stronger. I know that’s fucked up, and my Mom… well, we won’t visit that right now.“

Junmyeon huffs, pulling you away from his body and looking pointedly at your face. His eyes are serious, locked on yours, "All I can say is I am sorry you went through that. I am telling you right now I will never leave you over something like this. You’re very strong and you’re not fucked up at all. I think it’s a very real way of looking at it, unpleasant and horrible as it may have been to endure.”

His sincerity makes you smile, cupping his cheeks in your hands, you pull him back to you and kiss him squarely on the lips. He reciprocates, doubling his effort to cage you in his arms and take your fear away.

“Thank you,” you murmur into his mouth, needy for his validation of your feelings.

Humming, he swipes his tongue between your lips, softly pulling your elbows up so you will wrap your arms around his neck. He leans into you, his hands caressing down your sides like slow wildfire, scooping you by the back of the thighs to wrap yourself around him completely.

The chill of the countertop bites at your skin when he sets you on it, holding one hip in his grasp. His fingers dig slightly into your flesh, keeping you grounded to him like an anchor.

Your lover kisses you hotly, his tongue mapping your mouth until he has no choice for air and has to release you. Your breaths fan against the other's skin, balmy from the heat. Patiently, he hesitates, waiting for you to initiate anything further.

It dawns on you how _good_ he feels. Whether he is kissing you or not, Junmyeon makes you feel good. Just his presence by your side alone is enough to restore some balance to the chemicals in your brain and make you relax. The conundrum of him is one you don’t think you’ll ever figure out, but you will always cherish.

Your fingers thread in the hair on his nape, pulling his head back to yours for another slow, molten kiss. His lips find purchase on your neck next, his hand on your hip sliding up, under your camisole. “Let me,” he whispers against you.

It doesn’t matter what he’s asking for, you trust him enough to do whatever he has in mind. You trust him to make you feel amazing. The opposite palm flutters down the side of your neck, down your chest, lightly squeezing your breast as it descends. It quickly finds the target he had in mind, his fingers ghosting over your core.

Still tired from all of your activities yesterday and through the night, and your emotional outburst this morning, you didn’t realize how turned on you already were for him until the movement of his skilled fingers over your clothing has you biting your lip and spreading your legs further apart.

“Can I make you feel good, sweetheart?” he kisses the words into your collarbone. The pressure of his fingers increases, rubbing deliberately until you reward him, moaning out your consent.

With a whine from you, his hand is gone from between your legs. Not realizing you’d closed them, your eyes open to watch him straighten to his full height. “Let's get these off, hm?” he suggests, fingers dipping below the waistband of your pajamas.

Balancing yourself on the counter with both palms, you lift your hips, letting Junmyeon pull them down your legs. He kisses your left knee just after the material leaves your legs. His gentle hands are back at your thighs, pulling them apart to make space.

His movements are intent and slow. Languid yet focused solely on you. He leans into you again, cradling your head as he kisses you dizzy as he guides your hips forward with his other hand. Once parted for air, you find him sinking. His hands maneuver you gently to lean into the corner between the cabinets and the fridge, hooking your outside thigh over his shoulder.

He smiles up at you just once before his lips kiss against your folds. His tongue is slow. So slow, as it works its way into you and ascends to your clit. Junmyeon keeps the torturous pace as he goes, switching between long passes and gingerly sucking your bundle of nerves between his lips.

Every time his tongue smooths over your clit, you jolt. Your emotional nerves are weary, and the way he pulls moans from your mouth and energy from your body has you sinking slowly into relaxing madness. With one hand braced on the countertop, your other swipes his hair from his forehead.

His eyes meet yours briefly while he brings you closer to bliss. “Thank you,” you moan. He answers by swiping his fingers through your wetness, collecting enough of it and his own saliva to sink them slowly, carefully into your heat.

Your back arches, body wobbling slightly as you try not to move too much. Junmyeon matches his fingers with his tongue, scorching your body into molten lava. Every slow drag of his fingers or his tongue brings you close, fast. He’s making you feel him. Making you take what he’s giving you, and it feels incredible.

Already, he knows your body and your heart and your mind in this type of setting. He knows what you want and what you need and does whatever he can to give that to you and it is terrifying and elating all at once, you think. The culmination of emotions and his skilled tongue and fingers against your core are almost too much.

You want him. With each thrust of his digits inside of you and each lave of his tongue over your clit, you want him to wrap you in his arms and bring you bliss. You want him to reach bliss too, with you.

Moaning at the feeling of your walls fluttering, Junmyeon increases his pressure. He switches to drive as deep as he can while he pulls your bud between his lips and sucks.

“ _Junmyeon…_ ” you warn. Words aren’t your strong suit right now while he worships your body, “ _Fuck…_ ‘Myeon, you.” Your fingers scabble and clutch at him, attempting to get him to stand.

He seems to understand what you’re asking for, but refuses. Releasing you from his mouth, he kisses at your pubic bone, “After. Right now is for you.”

Desperate for him to wrap you in his arms, you pull him up anyway. “Kiss,” you whimper. Keeping his fingers in place and moving his thumb to replace his tongue, he complies with your wishes.

It satiates your need for his closeness. His lips are soft and warm and slow against your own, much like his pace to drag out your pleasure and make you feel it. Junmyeon seems to sense your desire for him in such a way, bringing his free hand to pull you against him as you wrap your arms around his neck.

Now, he redoubles his effort to push you into paradise. He doesn’t go any faster, but you don’t mind. A slow, strong pace is just as good, even cramped up on the countertop and against his chest.

You can feel the warmth of his heart and his skin like this. You can hear every breath he takes in the cramped space, and smell the last hints of his cologne. As if you wanted to absorb him into your very skin, he is the soothing balm to your anxiety.

Suddenly his fingers angle and grind just slightly against a place that has you keening against him and tightening your hand on his shoulder with a breathy moan into his mouth. He hits it again in time with his thumb against your clit and you feel like you’re about to tip over the edge. Junmyeon kisses your lips, your jaw, down to your neck and the slightest moan rises from his throat when he feels your walls tightening.

Two more identical pumps have you falling, moaning out your pleasure as your orgasm rocks through your body and Junmyeon’s stroking never falters it’s attention against your pearl. You spasm, whimpering between his arms and the countertop, until his fingers withdrawing slowly from your core.

When you open your eyes, your heart swells. As beautiful as he is, it’s Junmyeon’s expression that pools more tears in your eyes. His cheeks are flushed, hair mussed from sleep, smiling with stretched lips plump and red. His eyes though, are shining with some expression you can’t place but it makes you feel whole and complete.

Without thinking, your hands pull him even tighter against you until your arms are locking his face against your shoulder. When he hears your first sniffle, there against the warmth and safety of his neck, he pulls back.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his palms rising to hold your face gently.

Laughing, you turn away and dab your eyes with the heels of your palms, “Nothing is wrong.”

Your boyfriend stands straight, wide eyes looking baffled by your laughing and crying, “But… you’re crying?”

His pouted lips make you feel even lighter, and you can’t help but laugh, “I feel better.” you explain. Adjusting your posture to get your back out of the uncomfortable position, you pull him back to you again, “Thank you,” you tell him again.

Junmyeon’s arms feel like a comforting blanket when they wrap around you. They’re warm and solid and their weight grounds you to his chest. As your legs wrap around his hips you feel his obvious arousal for you, but he makes no move to acknowledge it.

“We can-” you begin to say, your fingers crawling down his pectoral, but his hand gently grabs yours away.

He pulls it to his face and kisses your palm, “No, this was for you.”

You object, “I know it was, thank you. I loved it, but you’r-”

He kisses you on the lips again, chaste and delicate. “I don’t want you to think it’s just about sex for me. As much as I enjoy it, I just want to be with you right now,” he comments as he cradles you.

You know it deep down that he’s being truthful. Patting his chest instead and giving him a kiss on the tip of his nose, “I haven’t ever thought that was all this was to you, or me, but I understand.”

He smiles back at you, his palms squeezing the backs of your thighs as he hoists you from the countertop and starts his trail to the bathroom with his arms full of you.

It is just like this that you spend the morning showering, making a mess of your kitchen in an awful attempt at omelets, and snuggling in your bed with coffee. Wrapped up in one another completely, but without any rush to find a finish line. Without any rush for ravishing one another more than with soft kisses and warm skin coddling one another like treasure.

By the time you need to get ready for work, you’re on a cloud nine of pleasure completely different from the sexual kind. You feel like nothing could stop you. Everything you’d been spending your time stewing over in the last few weeks has suddenly come to light and had the unexpected outcome, all in a matter of hours.

While you know your fears, reservations, and ultimate hesitation about all of it were valid, you can’t help but feel a bit foolish now that it’s all been dissolved so pleasantly. Although it was still awkward when you had to slip one pill while you prepared your mug of coffee, it wasn’t making your skin prickle. Even with Junmyeon’s eyes on you as it passed your lips, all he did was smile at you as if you were the sun.

You’re a little sad to kiss him goodbye just inside your apartment before you opened the door to part ways. He let you go first, considering you were pushing the clock as it was to be on time for work.

____________________________________

Five days later, you’re still unable to get the smile off of your face. You can’t remember how many times you’ve cried happy tears over the last few days. Whether in your apartment alone, or face-timing with your boyfriend of talking to Soohyun or Sehun. It is still summer, your favorite season. There’s a cash flow with your work as usual, Junmyeon is busy with work but at least he is home. School doesn’t start for another month.

July heat is the best, you think to yourself as you step out of your apartment building. On the busy streets of the city, people buzz around like bees not unlike a hive and the sun is hot where it kisses your skin. With tall buildings surrounding the area, there’s a constant and soft breeze.

On the subway, there seems to be fewer people. Here where the air conditioning cools your skin, your nerves also relax without the crowds. It’s the middle of the day on a weekday, so far less bodies are crammed into the cars as you take the red line north four stops.

Opening your messages, you check over your shoulder as your type in a quick one to let your lover know you’re about twenty minutes away. Staring at the screen of your conversation, three dots pop up before it even goes dim, followed by his response.

_‘Call me when you’re close. xo’_

From the weeks of text message conversations, you’re able to tell what he’s feeling. His lightning response gives away his excitement. Imagining him pacing the floor or stressing about the members or about you being in his home for the first time brings a girlish smile to your lips.

The proper route comes and goes and you pull the brim of the black hat on your head lower. One of his in fact, that you’re borrowing for cover as you thrust yourself back into throngs of people on the street.

Three blocks west, you decide, is close enough to press the call button beside his name. He answers on the first ring.

“Y/N?” he asks expectantly.

His voice makes you smile, “I’m a block away.”

Junmyeon hums into the receiver, “I’m coming down. You know what building, right?”

“Yes,” you answer, ducking between two older looking buildings and cutting across a parking garage. You smile apologetically at the garage guard as you pass, exiting from the opposite side.

“I think I’m here?” you comment, “but I don’t see you.”

A door buzzes behind you. “Over here,” he laughs into his phone. You spin, seeing him standing in the apartment building doorway, just behind an iron gate. He looks like he just got back from the gym, with sweaty skin and a towel resting around his shoulders.

You end the call and race through the gate to him, squishing his flushed cheeks between your palms. He pulls away laughing, towing you through the door of the building and up to the lobby.

A kiss in the elevator quells the racing of your heart to a comfortable and steady beating. “Relax. Half of them are out anyway,” Junmyeon says against your lips, noticing the way you fidget with your fingers.

Shyly, you smile up at him, “I know I shouldn’t be nervous but it’s my first time being at your place.”

He barks out a laugh as you walk down the hall to their dorm, “You’ve met everyone and they all know about us. Don’t feel like you have to hide here. I want you to be comfortable.”

“I’m content to come over, I promise. I’ll admit I’ve been curious about how eight men cram into one large apartment together.”

“Well Minseok doesn’t count. He doesn’t live here anymore,” Junmyeon reaches their door, but doesn’t open it yet.

“Honestly, most of us aren’t all here at the same time anyway,” he comments, “For example, right now it’s just Baekhyun, Kyungsoo, Jongin and myself. I think Jongdae went out and Sehun and Chanyeol are in L.A.”

You nod in understanding, “That would explain why Soohyun has been so mopey lately.” Both of you laugh at the unusual friendship between your closest friends.

When he opens the door, you’re not sure what you expected to be honest. The first thing you notice are the shoes. _All_ of the shoes. On shoe racks and on the floor and in over-the-door shoe holders. Just shoes. A couple of coats hang on hooks beside the door, too.

Your laughter bursts forth from your lips in a grin and Junmyeon turns to you, confused by your outburst, “Well what did you expect?” he asks with a smile and raised brows.

His pouted lips only make you laugh harder, obnoxiously at your own ridiculouness because he is right, what did you expect? Shoes certainly seem appropriate, “I’m sorry. It’s just funny.”

Shaking his head, he takes your hand and guides you into the main area. To your left is the kitchen, all white sans the appliances. Standing in one corner of it fussing over a rice cooker is Kyungsoo. His expression has just a hint of a smile as he notices your fingers tangled with his hyung’s.

“Hello. Welcome,” he greets in a soft voice, “I know it’s a bit late for lunch, but I hope you like Spicy Braised Chicken.”

Immediately, you’re whelmed with a sense of wholesome hospitality by him. You notice it’s the first time he has spoken to you directly. You bow to him, “Thank you so much.”

He accepts, turning back to his task. “Do you need a drink?” Junmyeon asks you. The coffee pot on the counter gurgles as it finishes making a pot. It smells wonderful.

A door opens across the living room while you shake your head. Baekhyun emerges from it in a pair of basketball shorts and a hoodie, his hair messy and damp.

“Ahh, Y/N! Welcome!” he smiles at you with a grin that grows in width the closer he approaches. “Shower’s free, hyung.” he says to your boyfriend.

Junmyeon turns to narrow his eyes at the open bathroom, deciding against it, “No thanks. Jongin should be done, I’ll go use my own.”

Your lover pulls his hand away from yours momentarily, “I’ll be right back, okay?” He turns to wash up, calling over his shoulder, “Tell Kyungsoo if Hyunnie does anything stupid.”

The older of the two remaining moves past you into the kitchen. Opening a cabinet, he pulls a Spiderman mug down from the space, “Do you want some?” he asks, gesturing to the coffee pot.

“Yes, please,” you answer happily.

Baekhyun smiles, “Iron Man, Thor, or… Groot?”

You scoff, “Iron Man is superior in _every_ way.”

He laughs wickedly, “Oh, Chanyeol is going to fall in love with her.” he comments to Kyungsoo, grinning with a shake of his head as he hands you the mug.

You ignore his comment altogether, thankful that he doesn’t pry. Instead, he moves across to the fridge and pulls out a carton of cream, setting it and a sugar decanter in front of you, “Ladies first.”

“Thank you,” you smile at him, making your cup and asking, “Do you have ice?”

Baekhyun looks at you for a moment, tilting his head and moving to the fridge once more, “Sure. How many?”

“Just two, please.” You reply, presenting your mug to him as he plops two cubes into it. You watch him make his own. Just a hint of cream in the bottom, followed by half of the mug filled with coffee before moving to the freezer and filling to the brim with ice.

A door opens and closes somewhere in the apartment and your eyes catch a golden chest entering the living room. “ _Dude,_ ” Baekhyun caws at him just as he turns back from the freezer, “We’ve got company. Go put a shirt on.”

Jongin’s head snaps up, embarrassed that he’s been scolded, “ _Oh!_ Sorry,” he laughs. Always that same familiar laugh that you can pick out from a crowd. He disappears down the hallway.

You giggle with a wave to him, “I don’t want any of you to feel uncomfortable on my behalf! Please don’t change anything about your routines just because I’m here.”

Baekhyun waves you off with a scoff, “No no, this is good. I’m tired of being the only one who ever wears clothes around here.”

“ _Yah,_ ” comes Kyungsoo’s immediate warning from behind Baekhyun.

The elder huffs, “You don’t count.”

You laugh at the expression Kyungsoo makes, staring death into the back of Baekhyun’s head. Once you’re sure you won’t spew it, you safely drink the coffee cooling slowly in your hands.

The youngest comes out once more wearing a sleeveless tee, smiling at you warmly, “Sorry about that. I forgot you were coming over.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s not like the world hasn’t seen it,” you remind him with a shrug. The honesty of your statement makes all of them laugh.

“So what do you think of our humble abode? Be honest with us, it’s messy, isn’t it? Especially without Minseok hyung here it’s hard to keep organized,” Jongin asks with a laugh.

“I really don’t know what I was expecting. It’s fine the way it is I think?” you smile, sipping at your drink.

“Let us show you around? I’m _obviously_ in someone’s way.” Baekhyun says, eyes glancing to Kyungsoo.

“I’m used to it,” Kyungsoo murmurs at him, kicking at the back of Baekhyun’s knee.

Jongin falls into step beside you, following Baekhyun three feet into the living room. A huge television hangs from the center of the longest wall. A large couch and two arm chairs take up most of the floor facing it, with a stack of flannel shirts laying over the back of one chair. A small pile of colored laundry crowds one corner of the couch beside a stack of folded clothes of the same hues.

There are different odds and ends around the shelves. Some figurines and other items, a tall fern in a planter in one corner. Several gaming consoles below the television with a small stack of games and a Lego model of some sort of space craft. Three controllers rest on the coffee table with two remotes and a headset. A massive analog clock ticks rhythmically on the wall opposite the television.

“So this is one bathroom. Feel free to use either of them anytime,” Baekhyun says, stepping across the room to open the door he came from earlier. He moves to the right and opens a door, peering inside, “This is mine and Chanyeol’s room.”

Two beds on opposite walls and several instruments lining the wall on one side. Books and handheld video games crowd a bookshelf on the other side. One dresser below a window along a shared wall has several pieces of jewelry, watches and eyeglasses. Several bucket hats are stuffed on top of one another on one bedpost, and an assortment of hooks installed on the wall over the other bed has a collection of baseball caps hanging from different hooks.

Baekhyun doesn’t say much, rather he leaves the door open and moves back out into the main area. He moves toward the front door to open a room you didn’t realize was there. “This is a shared closet.” he smiles, walking inside.

Overwhelming might be an understatement in regards to this room. Tension rods line the walls all the way to the ceiling and boxes of shoes are stacked neatly around the bottom of the walls. The amount of clothes is astounding, but you almost thought it would be less organized.

No doubt one of the neater members must handle the laundry, as everything, for the most part, is organized. Pants hang from the lowest rows, tops on the upper. Brightly colored standing tags separate the clothes by initials. You read Baekhyun’s first, followed by Chanyeol’s. Then Jongin and Kyungsoo’s, followed lastly by Sehun and Jongdae’s.

“Where does Junmyeon keep his clothes?” you wonder aloud when you notice his initials are missing.

“Ah,” Jongin says, waving you along to the next part of the flat. You follow him down the hall he came from earlier, cutting back across the living room to the opposite side. Four doors, two on either side.

The tanned man pauses beside the first on the left, “First, this is the other bathroom,“ he pauses with an impish smile. You narrow your eyes at his mischievous grin. "It’s occupied right now,” he giggles, moving away to the next door beside it, “Here’s mine and Kyungsoo’s room,” he pushes the door open with his foot, casually shrugging.

There’s a large television on one wall and below it on a shelf is a console you don’t recognize. A few more Lego models are spread on shelves. Beds are stacked one on top of the other against the opposite wall. There is a large stuffed teddy sitting against the bed frame on the floor. Otherwise, this room appears perfectly tidy and not like two guys share it.

“Across from it is Sehun and Jongdae’s room. We won’t go in though since they’re not here,” Baekhyun comments.

The taller man smirks, “It’s probably a mess anyway.”

Just as they’re about to open the last door to what you’re assuming is Junmyeon’s room, the bathroom door opens. You get a slight sense of deja vu from the steam that wafts into your face.

“What are you doing?” he demands, one fist clutching a towel around his waist.

Both Jongin and Baekhyun look between the two of you with devilish grins. Baekhyun clears his throat, “We were giving her a tour. Yours is the last place.”

Junmyeon sighs, serving each of the men a look before he turns his attention to you, fiddling with the mug in your hands, “Okay. Come on, then.”

He moves briskly between the three of you, opening the door across from the bathroom and taking you by the hand to follow him inside. His eyes find both of the idols outside his door simpering like wolves as he shuts it firmly.

Your heart begins beating loudly again, here in the silence of your boyfriends room for the first time, and you laugh.

“Remember that time you told me you felt like a college kid kicking out his roommate when you kicked Sehun out of your hotel room?” you ask him through your giggling.

He turns away from his spacious closet with his clothes in his hands, “Does this situation feel similar?” There’s a telling smile dancing along his lips.

You nod at him, “Somewhat. My heart is pounding for no reason at all.”

Glorious as his naked frame may be, your eyes trail around his room while he dresses. You let your fingers stroke along spines of books lining some shelves. A collection of rings sits in a bowl on a nightstand beside his bed, along with a heavy watch.

A bicycle leans against the wall near the end of his bed. That yellow checkered flannel you know he loves is hanging over the handlebars.

“Come here,” his voice asks calmly. Fingertips brush your sides at the same time, turning you in his arms as he sits down at the end of his bed. He’s decidedly comfortable looking in his gray sweats and simple tee.

You smile happily, curling your arms around his head and stroking through the damp strands of hair as you stand between his legs.

A sigh of content leaves Junmyeon’s lips, “Thanks for coming,” he whispers against your chest.

Squeezing a little tighter, you hum, “Happy to. I missed you.”

After a moment he pulls away, scooting back to lay properly on his linens. He taps at his own chest twice, fingers making motions for you to join him.

“You know there are two mischievous wolves right outside that door, correct?” you ask him incredulously. As if you think he’s going to initiate something sexual.

He huffs in disbelief at you, “Yah, I just want to cuddle and watch a movie. I’m innocent I swear.”

You set your mug down on his nightstand, diving onto him with a howl of laughter, “Just checking.”

Junmyeon grins cheekily at you, reaching for the remote, “Are we actually going to Netflix and chill or…?” you ask him again with a smirk, letting your lips trail his jaw.

He tuts at you, shaking his head, “You’re testing my willpower.” His eyes follow your lips as they pout at him.

“It’s just that you haven’t kissed me since I got here.”

He laughs. A cheerful burst that makes your heart soar, “I remember kissing you in the elevator.”

You know he’s caught you, but you also know he will indulge you no matter what excuse you give him, “I don’t seem to remember that. You’ll have to remind me…” you start, adding, “Besides, that wouldn’t count.”

He cocks one brow at you, but his hand is already climbing your arm to your neck, “ _Oh?_ Why wouldn’t it?”

Trying your hardest to put on the full power of your cute pouting, “Technically I wasn’t _here_ here yet. We hadn’t come inside.”

Junmyeon pulls you toward him, his hand warm and electrifying at the back of your neck. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, slowly, he lets his smiling lips meet yours softly.

You urge him to lay back, flattening your palms over his chest as his own hand pulls your hip down, slotting you against his side. His mouth takes your own, slowly and heavily repeating lip locks until your urgency for him climbs.

Politely, he pulls you from him, “Is that what you wanted?” he whispers to you calmly, grinning at your neediness.

“I want more,” you whine in return.

He smiles wider, eyes crinkling in delight at your cuteness, “You’re the one who _just_ said there are two wolves right outside my door.”

Opening your mouth to retort, no words come so you close it again.

Junmyeon maneuvers you to lay comfortably against him, “Relax. There’s time for that later.”

You don’t question him further this time, your brain comprehending how serene you feel curled up against his side. He’s freshly clean and the scent of him from the shower is heavy in a good way. You let your fingers crawl just under his shirt as your ears are greeted by the Netflix app opening on his television.

Junmyeon sighs happily, flat on his back with an arm curled around you. His voice is quiet when he invites you to make a selection, “What do you want to watch?”

Your eyes feel weighted, not resisting their closure as you relax into him, “I’m not picky. Just not something loud.”

The last thing you remember is Junmyeon’s arm pulling you tighter against him and his lips against your forehead.

An hour has passed before you jolt awake, startled by Junmyeon’s body beneath you also startling awake. Blinking, Baekhyun stands in the open doorway of his room with a nerf gun cocked and ready.

You peek at Junmyeon, who has a hand over his face and an orange foam bullet on his chest, “Come eat!” the intruder screeches in a sing-song voice, shooting Junmyeon in the arm once more for good measure.

Grimacing, your eyes find your boyfriend’s from beneath his hand, “You know he’ll be back, right?” you whisper to him with a stretch. Your arm reaches around his neck, pulling yourself up onto his hips.

He takes one deep breath and stretches too, sitting up quickly and wrapping you in his arms. Junmyeon doesn’t say anything else.

Laughing, you smooth your fingers over his hair, “Oh my god your bedhead.”

He smiles, “Is it bad?”

You slide off of his lap, eyes landing on a navy beanie on top of a pile of folded clothes in his open closet. You rake your nails over his scalp, brushing his bangs from his forehead as you stuff the beanie over it.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he grins, kissing you on the nose as he stands. You remember the empty mug on his nightstand and reach for it.

Together you walk into the kitchen just as Kyungsoo is setting the pot on the table. It’s set for five, so it looks like Jongdae won’t be home to join you. You cross the kitchen to place the dish in the sink, turning to Kyungsoo, “Anything I can help with?” you inquire of him.

“I must admit I’m a little disappointed,” Baekhyun chimes in, sighing wistfully. “I was hoping to walk in on something a little more…” he trails off, his shoulders and brows dancing up and down.

You turn away from the quietest member for a moment, noticing the nerf gun is absent and crossing your arms with a sickening smile, “Go ahead. Finish your sentence, I dare you.”

Baekhyun’s mouth hangs open briefly, caught off guard by your threat. His eyes flit between you and Junmyeon, thinking perhaps something was wrong.

Junmyeon pouts at him with a cocky stare and a one raised brow, “You heard her. Go ahead, I won’t stop her from killing you when you’re finished.”

Kyungsoo smiles at that, “I’d very much like to watch.”

Unexpectedly, his response has you in stitches. Baekhyun sucks in a dramatic breath, mouth agape, “ _Yah!_ ” His mock offense fizzles into a giggling that spreads around the room as you seat yourselves at the table.

“Thank you for cooking.” you bow to Kyungsoo politely.

Hesitantly, he smiles at you in return, “Anytime.”

After the meal, you try to help clear the dishes, but Baekhyun ushers you out of the kitchen. The battle between his warm hospitality and mischievous sides are giving you whiplash, but his genuine good nature makes you smile. You feel like this house might sometimes get a little cold without him, and it makes you glad for Junmyeon.

Full from the meal, you stop to use the bathroom and wash your hands before launching yourself back into Junmyeon’s bed and arms. You double-check that you’d locked his door before you turned away from it this time.

“Remind me what we were watching?” you ask cleverly.

Junmyeon snorts, tilting his chin toward the television with a grin, “Did you actually want to watch it?”

With a coquettish smirk, you snuggle yourself comfortably back into his side, “For now, anyway.”

“Okay,” he laughs, “Zombie apocalypse movie it is then.” queuing up Netflix to resume playing the movie.

“I love that this is what you chose to be _‘not loud’_ ,” you comment dryly. His skin is warm where your nose rubs against his arm. Comfortably, you hold it against your frame, letting your head rest on his bicep.

His laughter is silent, but you can feel it shake his chest, “I turned the volume down.”

It doesn’t take long for your boyfriend to grow impatient. Just as a fight sequence is breaking out in one of the train cars with the group of survivors, you feel his fingers teasing at your pants. Just lightly feeling what they can reach in this position, but he’s close to his the bullseye.

Your eyes flick to his face, but his head is turned toward the television across the room. His cheekbones give him away, rising high as he smiles, facing away from you.

Slowly, his dexterous hand works over your shorts. They stop briefly to gauge your interest, continuing their ministrations over your womanhood when you squeeze his bicep and deftly shift your hips toward him.

Junmyeon gently continues, playing a game with you while he pretends to pay attention to the screen he faces. You on the other hand, have given up on anything other than the feel of him touching your heating body.

A quiet moan slips past your lips when he presses harder, rubbing a tight circle with two fingers just where he knows you want him. The sound makes his head turn toward you, full innocent eyes on display.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, voice laced with mocking concern.

Your lips drop open in a pout, “You…” Huffing, you whine in the back of your throat, “After making me wait now you’re going to tease me?”

He grins, tilting his head back, eyes crinkling in delight, “It’s fun to tease you.”

“For _you!_ ” you whine at him, subtly grinding your hips into his palm, wrapping both arms around his arm and pushing your breasts into his bicep.

Junmyeon smiles at you, “What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” you murmur. He doesn’t bite, but you’ve waited too long and it’s too hot to be comfortable with the heat pooling between your legs.

A loud crash turns his attention back to the television.

With a sigh, you keep your position but let one of your own smooth down the front of your body. You want relief, and if he’s going to tease, you’ll tease right back. “ _Fine._ I’ll just do it myself,” you state matter-of-factly, batting his fingers out of the way so you can touch yourself.

Immediately, Junmyeon’s eyes are wide, attention focused on you. He’s amused, “Only if I get to watch.”

“I don’t care.” you pout, rolling onto your back and into a relaxing position. Truly, you’re comfortably with your body and don’t feel shy about it. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you naked or heard your wanton moans through the receiver of a phone when he is away.

He bites his lip, eyes hungrily watching your hand disappear below the waistband of your shorts. It doesn’t help that your first quiet sounds of pleasure pull a groan from his chest.

“I love seeing you needy,” he purrs, letting his own hand wander down his abdomen to flutter across the front of his pants.

“Thanks, I hate it,” you pout absently, letting your head fall onto his pillow and closing your eyes to concentrate on your growing pleasure. Frustratingly, you realize Junmyeon appears to have no problem with this.

You can hear his breathing, even but drawn out. His eyes are burning your skin, and when you peek your eyes open he levels you with a heady stare. They meet yours, hooded and sultry.

Your palm runs the length of your body while you grind up into your own fingers. Slipping it beneath your top, you pull at the fabric of your bra, yanking the cup down roughly. The material of your shirt against it peaks your nipple immediately and you can hear Junmyeon stifle a groan beside you.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” he purrs lowly, rolling onto his side to face you.

Moaning as you chew your lip between your teeth is the only answer he gets. Your hand knows your body well, and with his teasing, you’re already half way there.

Your boyfriend palms himself over his pants, grunting quietly as he watches you. He murmurs praise quietly, “Fuck that’s hot.”

A devilish smile graces your lips, understanding that somewhere here is a fantasy of his you’re indulging. It would be a lie to say it isn’t turning you on further.

Fun as it is, you’re still upset he would rather tease than touch you. “ _Junmyeon,_ ” you whine at him, straining your head toward him.

“Yes?” he coos at you, struggling to keep his composure.

“Kiss me,” you breath. “Please,” you whisper while your fingers work faster against your clit.

He doesn’t hesitate to cradle your neck in his hand, tilting you up into a searing kiss that ends with panting breaths between you. Unable to stop himself knowing you’re suffering, his mouth trails hotly down your jaw to your neck.

“So beautiful,” he whispers along the column of your throat with a wet kiss. The low pitch of his voice right in your ear pulls you faster toward oblivion.

Junmyeon’s palm sneaks up the plane of your stomach, squeezing your breast and running the pad of his finger over your nipple in circles, mesmerized by the perking bud beneath the fabric. He kisses you again as you whine, arching into him.

While you mold your mouth to his, you pull your hand from your core, quickly unbutton your shorts, and shoving them down your legs. To Junmyeon’s surprise, you’re fisting his shirt urgently. When he opens his eyes again, you let him go, turning to face away from him and wriggling your hips.

He understands easily what you’re asking for. His arms reach for you fully, dragging your back to meet his chest. Briefly, you tease him by gyrating your ass into his obvious erection. The low groan he releases in your ear followed by his sharp intake of breath makes you squeeze your thighs tighter.

“Don’t make me beg,” you plea to him, turning your head to pull his face down to you. He sniggers at the fact that you actually did beg. To your satisfaction, you can feel him stuffing his pants down to his thighs, and a moan works itself from your throat when you finally feel the silken heat of him pressing against the base of your spine.

He slides himself lower, curving himself around your body. Junmyeon lets his hand caress up your thigh and his fingertips flutter by the edge of your mound. They rise high, gripping the fullness of your breast in his palm. Your keening moan makes him smile.

Satisfied with the duration of teasing, he brings his hand back to your thigh, scooping it to hook with his own leg. He knows he doesn’t need to ask, but there’s something about doing it that makes his pleasure spike higher. The verbal affirmation that you need him to fuck you.

So he asks, “Is this what you want?” as he gently moves his hips, rubbing the head of his cock against your seeping folds.

You reach back and thread your fingers into his hair, molding him against you as much as possible. You know what he’s asking for and his reason, so you give him the truth in reply, “Please fuck me, Junmyeon.”

His opposite hand flies to your mouth, covering it the split second you cry out at his intrusion into your heat. He sighs deeply, lips finding purchase at your shoulder to distract himself momentarily.

This position isn’t one you’ve tried before, but you can feel him hitting all of the right places. He shifts his hips back once, holding your leg up still and thrusts shallowly in and out of you.

You groan, dropping your head back against his shoulder and hands holding onto his arm. Your fingers busy themselves smoothing over the length of his flexing muscles keeping you against him as he rocks into you.

Every breath you swallow is small, trying to take in adequate oxygen with your throat stretched back to kiss beneath his jaw. The man attached to you grits his teeth, denying himself the urge to move as hard as he wants. The sound of your panting just under his ear, the feel of your heated skin pressed completely against him and the velvet heaven of your walls beginning to constrict him feel amazing.

“ _Oh, fuck,_ ” he groans, “Touch yourself,” he demands. It surprises you, but his words also set a scorching flush across your cheeks. Complying with his request, you gather the slick seeping from your folds and rub tight circles over your clit, moaning loudly with the pleasure.

Junmyeon tries to ignore the thought in the back of his head that his younger members can probably hear you, but he’s beginning to care a lot less about it with every tight squeeze of your walls around him. He kisses at the juncture of your neck once, twice.

With the sudden urge to do so, he bites you, sucking your flesh harshly. The whimper you release gives way to a moan and you seize against him, muscles tense everywhere except for your throbbing core as you come around him.

“ _Fuck, fuck, Jun baby, yes,_ ” you pant, forcing your hips back into him roughly, trying to meet him for every thrust, but it’s hard to tell when your entire body feels like cotton candy pleasure. Your nails dig into his forearm pressing into your chest. He hisses and starts to move his hips at a harsh pace.

Briefly whining, his own oxygen barely enough with every ragged breath he drags into his lungs, “ _Oh,_ my god.”

Junmyeon isn’t normally one to feel embarrassed, but the explicit sound of his cock burying into and out of your wetness paints his cheeks in a blush that makes him feel like his face and ears are on fire. The sounds of your pleasure are obvious even over the movie playing in the background.

“ _Fuck,_ I’m,” he chokes out to you, mouthing over your shoulder again. Something about the intimacy of this position- he fucking adores it. Letting his mind race with thoughts of you; with the feeling of you pressed so completely against him rips his orgasm from his soul.

Junmyeon outright moans against your neck and his fingertips are pressing harder into your thigh. He feels you shudder against him, nearly purring from hypersensitivity with his last few thrusts.

His hips slow, and somewhere in your blissed-out consciousness, you can feel his heart hammering against your back.

He pulls out of you and scoots back a fraction before flopping onto his back, spreading his arms wide. You roll onto yours too, laughing into the air. Neither of you speak for a while, perfectly satisfied to clean up with tissues from his night stand.

After, you decide to ditch your shorts and curl up at his side with a smile. He picks a drama you’ve both already seen, but it’s agreeable to half-watch while you dose in the warm sunlight casting his room in an orange glow as it slowly lowers from the sky.

Junmyeon kisses you gently two episodes later during the fifteen seconds it takes to begin the next one. “Can you stay?” he whispers to your forehead, threading his fingers through your hair and letting the strands fall.

"Stay what, _awake?_ ” you snort in question.

He laughs quietly, giving your clothed chest a light smack and watching fondly as it bounces. Once it stills, he answers, “The _night._ ”

Content, you smile up at him, “Are you sure that’s okay? Don’t you have an early schedule tomorrow?” You bite your lip, waiting. The fact that you’re probably the most relaxed you’ve been in months is not lost on you, and you admit you’re reluctant to leave.

He hums back at you with a smile, “Not until noon.”

You lift your head, eyeing the time displayed on your phone where it rests beside his on the nightstand, “It’s only nine-thirty.”

You can feel his lips stretch into a smile and his chest compress with his chuckle, “I’m so tired though.”

Laying your head back to his shoulder, you snuggle closer to him. “Me, too.” you giggle with a yawn.

______________________________

A gentle knocking on Junmyeon’s door rouses you from sleep. You idly recall taking turns getting up to wash your face, surprised by the lack of other people toiling about to tease you. You remember coming back to his plush bed and cradling his arm against you before you drifted off somewhere around eleven. Sitting up, you notice it’s only just after eight now.

You smile at him while he sleeps peacefully beside you. Even in the peak of Summer, you’re both the type to need some sort of blanket when you sleep. The thin sheets of his bed are tangled around his calves now, with the cuff of his sweats bunched up just below each knee. His palm rests flat on his exposed abdomen and the tee he wore to bed has shifted up to his sternum.

The sight pulls a soft laugh from your lips as you crawl over him, curious about the knocking. Your shorts are folded over a chair beside his closet door. Pulling them on and flattening your palms over your hair, you unlock it and peek out into the hallway.

Your expression morphs into confusion when you don’t find anyone on the other side. The strong smell of coffee wafts up from below, and you spot a tray sitting on the floor in front of you with two mugs on it and a note.

Crouching down, you pluck the note from between them. A noise in the kitchen distracts your attention momentarily, but you’re still too sleepy to investigate.

_‘Sorry about yesterday’s behavior. I’m really glad hyung has you. -B.’_

Peering down at the mugs, you notice he’s crafted two cups of coffee, assuming exactly the way you both like them. The one on the left is in a solid reg mug, and the one on the right is in an Iron Man mug. Two ice cubes have almost melted in the lighter colored liquid, just the way you like it.

Your heart melts right along with the ice in your mug as you carefully pick it up and carry it into the room. Scooting aside a book on his entertainment center, you balance the tray in one hand and slide it onto the surface. Looking to Junmyeon, you pick up the mugs and set your own down on his nightstand beside your dying phone.

Perching on the edge of the bed, you cradle his coffee in one hand, enjoying the warmth while your remaining hand softly combs his hair away from his forehead.

An eyebrow ticks upward and he takes a deep breath as he enters consciousness. One dark eye cracks open and he immediately smiles, “Hi.”

“Hi,” you smile back at him. “Baekhyun made us apology coffee,” you murmur to him, holding his own up for him to take.

Junmyeon frowns in confusion, “ _Apology coffee?_ Are we sure it’s not a trap?”

You lightly smack him in the arm, laughing. You pass him his mug as he sits up, rising to pluck the note from the tray across the room.

“Seems legit to me. He even made mine the way I took it yesterday,” you comment, pulling it from its place beside the bed.

Junmyeon reads the note with a fond smile stretching his lips and cheeks, but says nothing otherwise. He takes a careful sip of the hot drink. Appeased, he sets it down and pulls you close, cuddling you into his arms.

“What’s gotten into you?” you ask with a grin, desperately trying not to spill your own coffee all over his bed.

Junmyeon pulls his head away from you to meet yours eyes. His smile is radiant, content to say “I’m happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've got two more chapters left, then this story will come to a close! This chapter's ending is a lot lighter in context than some of the angstier or sexier ones. I promise it doesn't last. ;)
> 
> Additionally, for those of you that have them, please check out my Tumblr, @softly-savage-mint-yoongi.  
> I'm most active there and I always post my work there before I post it here. I sometimes also post work there that will not come to a03 for various reasons including requests. You also get free snippets and content related to my work there, so there is some incentive. No pressure though! I just feel bad sometimes because I'm really active there and not here.
> 
> Enjoy, and stay safe out there!   
> R.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! We're coming down to the last few parts of Allotrope, but I wanted to say thank you for such wonderful praise and support!  
> Chapter 7 will be the final chapter, so please stay tuned!

Illuminating your lockscreen, the face that stares back at you is hauntingly beautiful. A face you know well, but the cerulean of his eyes contrasts excitingly with the shock of red hair on his head as he wears a devilish smirk.

You turn your phone face down in your lap, trying to quell the excitement in your bones as you wait patiently for your cab to arrive at the location Sehun sent to you. He seemed to be quite fond of you now that your relationship is legitimate and he knows you well enough to tell you aren’t just fucking with his closest brother.

‘ _You should come to the MV shoot. Manager said you could_ ’ he had texted you last night.

You’d wanted to scold him for asking you to come at the very last moment, less than 24 hours before, but refrained because at least he asked you to come at all.

‘ _Don’t tell Hyung_ ’ came a second text.

‘ _It will be a nice surprise_ ’ he had followed up in a series of messages with thumbs up and secret emojis.

You haven’t been able to see your boyfriend for several weeks. Only messages and video calls were smattered between your hectic lives as often as time would allow you both.

This relationship has not been easy necessarily, but the work you and Junmyeon have both put forth in effort has not gone unnoticed by the other, or those around you. You bicker from time to time, but not over anything serious. Mostly about what to order for dinner or characters in books you’re both reading or movies you’re watching together.

It’s the distance at times and the lingering sense of isolation or loneliness you feel when you can’t see each other for weeks and video-chats are a weak solace to soothe the ache. It was worse at first- attempting to get used to the come and go of his chaotic schedules before your own replaced the free time. You’ll admit the severity lagged when you went back to school, less idle than before.

This late in the year, you’re halfway finished with the current semester, and Junmyeon is close to releasing their latest album, ‘Obsession’ with the rest of the group. You hope that all of the time you’ve been unable to be together has grown sweet fruit for you both.

He did share a lot of selfies with you, featuring his new red hair which he happily told you he really likes. In his words, he said it makes him feel rebellious. You can’t say you dislike the color on him, especially when it is styled into the horns of his painfully hot doppelganger of X-EXO, but you prefer him in his natural state, all fluffy and unstyled dark hair.

The teaser images he sent to your phone last week had come with a warning ‘For Y/N’s eyes only!’ via text with lots of cute sound words. You had to cover your mouth to prevent your soft gasp from escaping into even the quiet of the library. You bent yourself over suspiciously, shielding your screen as you memorized the images.

Bouncing your leg in the back of the cab, thoughts of Junmyeon continue to permeate your consciousness, and you let them without feeling sad or lonely. You’ll finally get to hold him today, so you replay your favorite memories in your head with a fondness that makes your heart flutter.

You recall the middle of July, when the Summer heat was at its peak and you had a video call with him from the roof of your apartment building. You had explained your fascination with the magic of the balmy summer night sky and the light show that danced above your head with a giddy happiness. You know he was barely able to see your face or the stars from the screen, but it was something.

Three days later, immediately after the release party for Chanyeol and Sehun’s unit album, Junmyeon had taken you to a restaurant with rooftop dining. He had reserved the entire space so you could enjoy the night sky like that with him, in person this time. Properly, he had reasoned. You hardly remember the meal, but you smile fondly as you conjure the memory of his face. The soft glow of tall white taper candles illuminating his cheeks and lips and that reflected the stars in his own eyes. You cover your mouth at your own sappiness, but it’s the truth.

Trying his best to be as romantic and cheesy as possible, he’d brought you to the center of the roof and hummed a tune at first, that eventually turned to singing quietly to you while he twirled you around slowly. Swaying in time to the tempo he kept, smiling like idiots every time your eyes met while he held your hand in one of his, the other at your waist.

Vaguely, you remember you were wearing shorts and a t-shirt. He was, too. Casual to match your level of comfort. You laugh to yourself and catch the eyes of the driver in the rearview mirror when you remember the embarrassment of your attire for such an occasion once you realized what was going on. Sweetly, Junmyeon was right beside you, holding your hand and telling you it didn’t matter because he liked you best when you were relaxed.

That night you remember falling asleep with your head on his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat as he hummed contentedly and drifted off.

Another memory pops into your head from the following month. In your apartment when he wanted to try cooking with you. You were aware he was not ever one to cook, and you couldn’t say you were greatly skilled at any of the meals you’d ever made. Eventually, after many, many tweaks to the recipe and ditching it in the trash altogether once, you had managed to make something not just edible, but good. Perhaps the ambition to try a new recipe was at fault for the chaos in your kitchen.

You had eaten quickly, ignoring the mess of ingredients everywhere. Certain there was rice in your hair, you snuck a peek at Junmyeon, who had a smear of flour across one eyebrow and his forehead. The shock that made his eyes sparkle with delight when he realized it was good is something you’ll never forget. He was so proud, tucking a giant smirk into the corner of his lips so he could chew properly as he said the word.

The fondness that fills your chest with warmth and fuzziness remembering the time spent together cooking it is sweeter and more satisfying than any meal could ever be. The laughter and the way Junmyeon smiled at you in triumph when you succeeded with the second attempt. The joke he made about the two of you hosting a MasterClass on cooking.

You worked together to clean up to an acceptable standard before he whisked you away for a shower and claims of being hungry for dessert.

In September, you’d purchased tickets to surprise him with, going to a new interactive set of exhibits at a gallery in the city, although the weather didn’t turn out to be very nice. Happily walking side by side through each piece or stopping to take some pictures of each other at a few. The final exhibit was a large display involving lights and mirrors. You were walking through it giggling to yourself until the gloomy day turned into a storm that knocked the power out.

You had been able to see most of the exhibits, so neither of you were upset that you suddenly had to leave and go back to your apartment. Thankfully, you always kept a micro umbrella in your purse. As it turns out, umbrellas that small are not meant for two. You both got wet, huddling under the small protection you had and laughing until your cheeks hurt, but at least you had anything at all to cover your heads.

Just after arriving and unlocking your door, Junmyeon became extremely playful. Much the entertainer, he dragged you up onto the roof to enjoy the warm rain after you ditched your things inside. Your clothes were already dripping with rainwater. It came down heavily, soaking your hair and face. You had laughed, barely able to keep your eyes open as it poured over you.

That was when he had kissed you. Taking your cheeks in both of his hands, he had pulled you against him and kissed the droplets from your lips until you could hear your heart beating louder than the rain. Your lover had kissed you as if he were afraid he would melt and the feel of your body against him was the only tether to the moment. He’d kissed you until you felt soaked through from more than just rain.

Your boyfriend said nothing but carefully walked you back down the emergency stairs and into your apartment and straight into your living room, flinging sopping wet shirts and pants across the floor with wet slaps against the kitchen tile, desperate to keep his lips on yours. He still kissed you, slowly and deeply, even after he had laced your fingers together and pressed your back into the cushions of your couch.  
You remember his tenderness and the way he had made love to you. The way he kept his forehead pressed against yours, and every drop of rain that fell from his hair onto your skin was kissed away by the fullness of his lips. The way the rain beating against the windowpanes painted his skin in moving watercolor hues of muted gray-blue. The deep and slow strokes of his length along your walls, making you both feel every inch of one another, softly in a way that still satisfied the need to reach completion together.

You remember quietly listening to the sound of the storm as you stood naked in the middle of your living room, caressing towels over one another and the gentle press of your lips to his as you fluffed his hair.

You recall the power was out all night, and Junmyeon choosing to light some candles and read a book he was almost halfway finished. You begged him to read some aloud to you as you made a pillow out of his thigh, much to his initial refusal. The topic was something philosophical but not boring, and you had fallen asleep to the feel of his warm and comforting skin and the sound of his soothing voice within minutes.

Just last month in October, during your first week of exams, he had surprised you with flowers. Knowing it was your first day of the brutal and long testing periods, you had come home with a stale but free end-of-day bagel protruding from between your lips from your favorite shop across the street from your apartment. You found a large bouquet of your favorite flowers in a vase on the kitchen island. A box of your favorite chocolate sat beside it with a card.

_‘Sweetheart,_

__

__

_I hope these will make you smile after your first day of exams._  
_You’ve worked so hard and I’m really proud of you._  
_So cheer up and keep fighting!_

_I want to see you soon… ;^;_

_PS don’t worry I didn’t break in. I asked Soohyun to deliver these._

_xoxo_  
_J.’_

The gifts were wholly appreciated and sweet, but the fact that he had to ask Soohyun for help made you feel a little bit bad for both of them. The idea of giving him a key is one you had entertained before- especially when he needed some time to himself. Junmyeon knows he is welcome even if you’re not home.

You remember when it dawned on you randomly, going around your apartment and smiling, suddenly wondering when the second toothbrush showed up in the cup on the sink. Or when the shoe rack in your closet began to house pairs of men’s sneakers or slides beside your own. Or when a pair of reading glasses that aren’t yours showed up on the nightstand opposite yours beside the bed, sitting atop a book with a marker jutting from the top halfway through its pages which you’ve never read, along with a copy of a script for a play he was starring in soon. Or when the roller of men’s deodorant showed up on your vanity beside your own.

In that moment, the natural progression of your relationship with him made your chest swell with pride, easing some of your fears. You had asked Soohyun for his opinion before you committed to it. When the question popped out, you were met with honest but sincere acceptance. It felt like crossing a line or taking that next step. The notion made you feel nervous and turbulent, but Soohyun’s trust and guidance was something you knew you could rely on. It wasn’t as if he was moving in completely.

You had given the key to Junmyeon the week before the SM Halloween Party, nonchalantly and casually pulling it from your bag with a cute rabbit keychain. You dropped it into his palm just as you were leaving their dorm after helping some of the boys with their costumes, making last minute adjustments.

You wanted to tell him he didn’t have to use it if he didn’t want to or if it felt weird, but that you wanted him to have it sincerely. Instead, nervously you said nothing at all and made a beeline for the door, quickly making an exit before he could respond, fanning the flames on your cheeks as you left.

Junmyeon had been faster, catching you before you could make your way too far down the hall on their floor and spinning you into his frame with happiness.

Several times he had taken you up on the offer just to get some peace. His manager always knew where he was, and you have come home from work to find him there multiple times. Once, you recall with a laugh, cutely sitting in the middle of your couch with a notebook in front of him and his hair clearly mused from running his hand through it, scribbling lyrics for the solo album he has been working on from time to time.

Another day he was pacing back and forth in the living room with his script in hand for the play he was starring in. He asked you to help him with a scene or two after you took a shower and ordered takeout.

Your favorite instance of finding him in your home was a late night after a long and boring lecture and an even longer shift immediately after. Tired and frustrated and you believed with red wine in your hair from an incident involving another server, all you wanted was to take a hot shower and go to sleep.

You didn’t know he was there at first, too focused on tossing your bag down on the couch and turning the knob down until it couldn’t go any hotter in the shower. Walking into your room with a towel wrapped around your body, you’d found your bedspread a heap of mess and a head of fluffy black hair peeking out from the top.

The sight of him so content in your bed, even without you, eased any remaining stress your shower couldn’t burn out of your weary bones. He stirred briefly when you swept some of his bangs out of his eyes, brows furrowing and his bottom lip, much fuller and more prominent than his top, pushing into an easy pout. He groaned only once when you had pressed your lips to his cheek before dressing and sliding under the covers on your side.

After you’d settled and your eyes closed, you heard him move. Before sweet sleep could take you, he had found you in his own sleep, curling his arm into the crook of your waist to press your back to his chest. Faintly, you remember his lips finding the back of your neck as you both fell asleep.

The memory of Halloween comes next, constricting your chest in a mix of emotions. The SM Halloween Party. The only event you could safely be invited to attend to keep your relationship private. However, the one place that made you feel extremely self-conscious.

You would meet many pairs of eyes, from company managers and executives to other idols who knew Junmyeon better than you. The thought of their disapproving eyes upon you made you pace in front of your mirror. Junmyeon was due to arrive any moment, and the feel of your costume against your skin didn’t feel right.

When he entered, wearing his fangs and cape and looking every bit as handsome as you knew he truly was, he frowned at you. At the way you had chewed your lip swollen and the frantic, unsettling looking in your eyes as you grabbed at the parts of yourself you disliked most in the mirror, pinching at your skin through the costume.

He'd stepped behind you, holding you still by your hips and asking what was wrong. When you had told him, you remember the look in his eyes when his gaze met yours in the mirror. The way his face softened for you and he kissed gently at the back and sides of your neck. You remember, with a grin, the way he bit playfully at your skin with the plastic teeth over his own while his big brown eyes looked at you with so much ardor you couldn’t watch for long.

Goosebumps light your skin there in the cab, remembering with a shudder the way he made you believe that you were beautiful, telling you to remember than confidence is sexy and validating your right to think so about yourself.

The way he made you feel what you do to him and the way he coaxed you to your bed, stripping you both of your costumes. The way he finally, at long last, made you believe there was nothing to be worried about when you clutched your headboard with both hands and let him lie beneath your spread thighs.

He comforted your skin with his palms, soothing over the muscles in a loving manner until he needed you closer, digging his fingertips into the flesh to pull you down against him. All while his tongue licked every drop of your anxiety from you with a delightful groan.

You sat, riding the pleasure as your worry melted into his mouth like liquid candy. The way you were convinced by his body tells, transfixed with your head twisted back to watch his own pleasure seeping down the sides of his cock, sitting red and swollen and jumping with every sound you made. The way his abdomen was tight, his hips struggling to remain still.

The way, when you reached back to touch him, he denied you. When you lifted your core from his mouth for a moment to protest, the growl of your name he emitted was nearly your undoing. He told you, voice dangerously low, that if you touched him at all he would explode.

The way, moments later when you screamed his name and shuddered above him, his own body twitched in euphoric bliss as he lost control and the proof of his need for you dripped heavily from his twitching length to pool on his abdomen.

The way he beamed with pride while he held your hand tightly in his when you entered the party an hour late and received the first wave of watchful and curious eyes. That night, there were no eyes meeting yours that made you feel inferior. Only smiles and laughter and new friendships were formed.

You’re jostled from the memories when the car pulls onto a graveled surface. Outside the window, you watch the tires kick up dust until the car smoothly glides to a stop in front of a large building that resembles a warehouse. The last rays of the sun pushing through twilight are casting a beautiful array of colors across the sky.

Giving the driver your thanks, you step out to the greeting wave of Junmyeon’s Manager holding open a door. “Thank you for letting me watch,” you bow.

He smiles at you, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a finger, “You’re welcome. It’s nice to see you again, have you been well?” You smile at him in return, falling into step beside him where he guides you.

Your heart begins thumping in your chest deeply as if it only comes to life in the vicinity of your lover. “I’ve been busy, but fine thank you.”, you reply.

Rounding a corner and through another door, you are met with a wide expanse of space. Cameras and lights and sound equipment of all sorts are set up on various small stages, miniature sets of rooms for certain scenes within the video you assume.

A row of chairs and mirrors lines a wall beside you, and an assortment of sporting-goods brands duffle bags and sneakers, hats, and sweatshirts are piled beside each one. Makeup kits and cosmetics, combs and cans of hairspray are organized atop each of the tables beside each mirror.

“Oh! Look who decided to show up,” hollers a familiar voice. Your head follows the sound of it to see Baekhyun swinging his arms as he approaches you. He looks handsome with his shock of white hair, and mysterious with the delicate silver chain draped over his nose and cheeks.

You smile at him, covering your mouth at the sight of his appearance, dressed as his evil doppelganger, “You look awesome.”

He grins at you cheekily and lifts his brows coquettishly, “Thank you.”

“We’re almost finished for today, but I’m glad you could come. We weren’t sure if you would be able to.”, he comments.

Nodding, you look around the sets for the rest of them. You can’t see them, but you can hear laughter around the side of one of the walls, “Yeah, I’m glad too.”

Baekhyun pauses his stride as he passes you, beckoning you after him. Looking to Junmyeon’s Manager, he motions for you to follow the idol. “He has no idea you’re here,” Baekhyun says with mischief in his tone.

Rounding the corner, your eyes find the other men standing in a loose circle on one of the sets, laughing. Baekhyun extends his arms wide while approaching, “Yah look who I found!”

They catch his comment, heads turning and multi-colored eyes lifting at different moments within the same two seconds to see who is beside him. They are all dressed in mostly-leather costumes, colored in pairs that match in some way. Reds, yellows and blacks. You hold your breath, watching the expression that morphs on Junmyeon’s face.

His brows rise toward his red hairline in shock before they fall back down and knit in confusion accompanied by his pouted lips. Immediately after, he smiles fully. Your favorite slight-box grin that makes the apples of his cheeks rise high and makes his eyes curl into half-moons, crinkling at the corners. It completely diminishes any traces of the danger his other half is portrayed to possess.

You watch him, almost in slow motion as he moves toward you in long strides. The flaming tips of his shoes pointed straight toward you until his arms extend and he crushes you to him, folding your body against his chest with both arms.

Laughing, you let him hug you, enjoying the brief moment of physical contact before a Manager tells them all the break is over. Just before he must let you go; you pick up the familiar scent of his deodorant. The thought that it is comforting makes you stifle another laugh.

Quietly standing beside their manager, you watch the rest of tonight’s shoot go by in a flurry of movement. You watch Chanyeol brag about being the only member flexible enough for the intro center of the choreography, only to complain about the soreness in his groin after.

You laugh when Jongdae nearly sends the chess table prop crashing to the ground as he leans a palm against it during the last powerful chorus every single time they run through it. He shouts his frustration in a whine each time a quiet wave of laughter moves through the crew from it. Your attention is rapt on Junmyeon as they repeat the dance over and over, looking every bit as powerful and dangerous as his X-EXO counterpart is meant to be.

They’re all doing their best not to move too much or look too winded or tired. Their breaths are measured where they stand in the middle of the set resembling an abandoned parking garage. The white flicker of the light in the back of the space doesn’t quite penetrate the depth of darkness surrounding the idols, but you can still clearly see Junmyeon’s eyes staring at you from his position on the right.

The moment the director calls cut they drop to the floor or lean on their knees or one another, panting for breath. The crew surrounding the set begins to clap, voicing praise for the job well done today.

You wait patiently, not quite sure what to do with yourself and feeling a bit out of place as you stand there awkwardly playing with your hands. Junmyeon finds you a moment later, hastily swallowing large mouthfuls of water from a bottle. He drinks the entirety of one while his eyes look down at you before twisting the cap from another and raising it to his lips.

He relents, offering you the remaining half after he’s had his fill. You smile at him, taking the bottle from his fingers. Sweat shines on his forehead, neck and chest. “You worked hard today,” you grin up at him.

Junmyeon smiles, wiping at the corner of his mouth and taking your hand in his, “Thank you.”

He leads you away from the bustling set full of crew, managers and idols for just a moment’s worth of privacy. You wrap your arms around his torso, resting your chin on his sternum as you look up at him. He fusses briefly, protesting, “I’m sweaty and gross.”

You laugh, squeezing the balmy warmth of him tighter, “I don’t care. I’ve missed you.”

He smiles, lighting up for you and breaking free just so he can dip low enough to capture your lips in a lingering kiss. Even the simple pressing of his mouth against yours sends shivers down your spine. The feel of his palms are warm against your neck and cheek as he steals one, two more quick pecks.

Too quickly you feel the heat of blood rushing to your cheeks and your heart hammering so fast in your chest you have to step away to catch your breath.

He laughs, grinning, “Did you miss me that badly?” His fingers reach for you again, pulling you back toward him.

“I did, but I’m blaming all of this for now,” you admit, gesturing to his entire frame.

He quirks a brow at you, licking his lips, “What about it?” Junmyeon knows exactly what you mean. He knows you’re absolutely weak for this look on him and that the entirety of X-EXO Suho makes you squeeze your thighs together and bite your lip.

“You know what I mean,” you suck the flesh of your bottom lip between your teeth, embarrassed by your physical response to his proximity.

A wolfish grin spreads across his face, dropping into the persona of his evil counterpart. The hand at your waist grips you tighter as the other raises your chin to look at him. He tilts his head, eyes narrowing until he whispers, “What are you thinking about?”

You struggle against him just a little, squirming in his strong hold, “Do I excite you?” He whispers the question, eyeing your lips as he rubs his thumb along the softness of it once you release it from your teeth.

Sehun’s voice drenches the moment in ice-cold water, “Hyung, hurry up!” he whines from a distance.

You take a deep breath, released from Junmyeon’s firm hold as he sighs, instead taking your hand in his as he melts back into his usual self, smiling prettily at you with wide eyes that sparkle like the sun glinting off of pool water. You notice the tips of his ears are red but choose not to say anything about them, busying yourself with ordering an uber instead.

Much too quickly for your preference, the men you know and adore come to say goodbye one by one as they change back into their street clothes before leaving the set for the day. Of course, only Junmyeon puts his hands on you. He holds you until the last possible moment as the dot on your phone draws up to the building and it vibrates, alerting you that your ride is here.

________________________________________

Three weeks have passed since the music video shooting, but thankfully you’ve been able to see Junmyeon a few times. You’d been there to celebrate both the release of the new album and Chanyeol’s birthday, joining them in their dorm just after their live broadcast two days ago.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, remembering the loud complaints from the birthday boy himself when he came knocking on Junmyeon’s door telling you both what he wants for his birthday from you. Silence, so he doesn’t have to drown out the sounds of pleasure seeping through the door or leave the dorms altogether.

Today, Junmyeon, nor any of the boys for that matter, have any idea you’re here. It’s all thanks to his Manager, truthfully. He had given you special copies of the new album, one of each kind, all autographed. Additionally, his parcel had come with a lightstick that was already glittering with the name ‘ _SUHO_ ’ down the shaft, and a ticket to their SM stage with a VIP pass.

Over the last several months, you’ve had snippets of conversation with all of their Managers, but Junmyeon’s, in particular, seems to have taken a liking to you the most. He has been the one to help you arrange time to see Junmyeon and who has accompanied you on a few dates with him, quietly admiring the way you’re growing together. Admittedly, his presence as a silent third wheel took some getting used to.

He has told you, on more than one occasion over a meal, how thankful he is to you for having come into Junmyeon’s life and for being supportive and understanding of his career and the difficulties that come with it. It has always ended with you thanking him in return for being supportive of your relationship and for being such a pillar of strength for Junmyeon.

The crew standing in the pit between the stage and the guardrail you’re crammed against seem to know who you are. A few of them you recognize as well. One woman holding a clipboard and a wearing a headset brightly smiles directly at you. One of their set directors, if you’re not mistaken.

The show begins with EXO themselves, all dressed in black and looking ready for a fight. You have a blast screaming the fan chant along with the song, raising your lightstick high and waving it around with the powerful music.

You don’t stop until the boys are standing still and panting, having snapped their necks for the final move of the choreography. The approach the front of the stage, sweeping their eyes over the sea of their beloved fans. You’re sure it’s probably difficult for them to see the faces of the fans with the bright stage lights shining down on them and drowning the crowd in darkness.

When they’ve finished waving, the lights dim and the idols in front of you light up with smiles and more vigorous, friendly waves all around, able to see faces and read signs in the undulating mass of cheering. You do the one thing you know will get you noticed.

You stand still.

Chanyeol notices you first after a few minutes, squatted down and waving with a head tilt at the crowd. He plays off his surprise well before he stands and turns back nonchalantly. Baekhyun comes after, grinning wide and barking a laugh.

None of the fans seem any wiser, and the anxiety you thought you would feel never swells in your throat. They’re so good at interacting with their fans that nobody has any clue what the easy smiles and laughter passed between you all mean.

Junmyeon appears to have been clued in on your presence, his eyes flicking to yours briefly to confirm you’re standing there pressed up against the railing, but he controls his expression into his typical smile. He doesn’t dare to express any greater form of glee toward you than anyone else.

A bit later, after their comments as EXO, they descend beneath the stage with waves and smiles, only to slip out from the wings of the stage minutes later.

This time, they’re not who they seem while they sing the same track, if only with a bit of an aggressive edge and intensity to their choreography and looks. They seem dangerous, smirking, and cocky but ultimately enjoying every moment they get to spend as their alternate selves on stage.

This time, Junmyeon looks directly at you and rubs at his bottom lip as if he wants to reprimand someone. Fans around you erupt with squeals, confessions of love unable to be contained within their throats.

He takes his in-ear out and squats down near you, waving to fans and licking his lips. “He’s ridiculously hot as X-Suho, isn’t he?” one of the women beside you sighs dreamily, fanning herself. You laugh with her, agreeing wholeheartedly.

His brow raises conspicuously as he stands back up and peers down at you with a wicked grin. You don’t think he heard you or the woman beside you, and it isn’t like he doesn’t know what this side of him does to you. You’ve confessed to him at least once how much this persona of his makes you sweat.

He takes six long strides to the other side of the stage to pay that end as much attention. Time passes slowly as you watch them entertain both the cameras and themselves as X-EXO. They laugh and sing and dance and play games. Before you realize what’s happened, he’s gone, along with most of the others. Only Sehun and Chanyeol are left on the stage, asking the fans if they like EXO or X-EXO more. They mock EXO, gently scolding fans with their disappointment when they tell the crowd to be consistent.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you peer at it to see a text from his Manager.

‘ _Go back out and follow the signs for VIP access._ ’ It reads.

You look up and around but can’t see much other than lightsticks illuminating a mass of darkness. It’s pretty, you think. Without much struggle, you maneuver your way back out of the crowd. It warms your heart, to think their fans are decent and considerate enough to move out of the way or ask if you’re alright as you leave. You don’t mention the VIP access, you don’t want a target on your back.

You’ve found the VIP area and find, sneakily, you’re the only one there. You wonder if you were the only person granted one. Their Manager walks through a door, smiling as he greets you and motions for you to follow.

Halfway down a long corridor behind the stage, Junmyeon comes into view, stalking toward you. He doesn’t say anything at all. He grins at his Manager, nodding, before he slips his hand into yours and pulls you further down the hall.

There is a pause in front of a closed door, where you nearly plant your nose directly into his shoulder when he stops. Junmyeon’s brows knit together and his eyes narrow. His mouth makes a shape similar to a loose ‘o’, a series of micro-expressions that together you’ve learned mean he is pensive but uncertain.

The bright blue of his eyes looks sharply in each direction before he takes a deep breath and quickly shoves the door handle down and pulls you into the room before slamming it closed.

You’re barely able to note the color of the walls before he whirls on you, seeming menacing and troublesome. He still doesn’t say anything, watching the stillness of your frame and making you squirm under his gaze.

You don’t move. Instead, you’re fascinated by the role he plays. You use the moment to take a good look at him. The effect of the cut at the corner of his left cheekbone, the cerulean color of the contacts softly edged by dark shadow of burnt reds and browns. The slant of his brows and the shape of his hairline crested red and gelled into horns that don’t seem cliché, but rather, ridiculously good-looking on his head.

You feel the heat of his closeness, the warmth of his skin in the center of his exposed chest and abdomen. The color of his suit and his hair and the flames on the tips of his shoes calling him to become the opposite personification of his element. It doesn’t feel wrong though. Instead if feels dangerous and passionate and you don’t fight the way this color wraps itself around him and becomes something altogether sinfully good and unholy.

It makes you bite your lip, and the motion is not lost on him. His hand lifts to your neck. He slides his palm flat, fingers brushing your throat, up until he cups the tip of your chin and tilts your face up to his. “What are you thinking about?”, he asks quietly. You never did answer him at the video shoot.

“You,” comes your answer, whispered into the space between you.

“Me? Not Junmyeon?”, he asks curiously, wolfish as he steps closer into your space. You understand the game he’s playing and for once, you don’t want to bicker with him on it. The way he’s looking at you as if he intends to devour you makes excitement thrum in your veins like electricity.

“Answer me,” he bites, stirring you from your thoughts. The command in his tone sends a shiver down your spine.

“Yes, you,” the words come easily from your throat, thick with potency for action between your bodies.

He smirks, tilting his head and leaning in to whisper, “I heard you earlier, by the way. What is it, I wonder, that excites you so much?”

You don’t answer again, much to his displeasure. “Being a bad girl today, are we angel?” he mocks. The sound of a new pet name falling from his lips sends heat to your cheeks instead, smiling at him.

“ _Oh?_ ” he tuts, “I’ll have to fix that.”

This dangerous side of him steals the breath from your lungs with lips that send an inferno straight to your core. He bites at your lips, demanding entrance and groaning aloud when you acquiesce.

He kisses you hard, branding you with the searing heat of his lips as he repeats his desire for you over and over until you’re squeezing your thighs together with a moan. His fingers leave your neck, climbing higher into your hair and gently pulling a fist full of it back.

When he finds your eyes, you see an edge of uncertainty, a question swimming even in the artificial blue depths.

He swallows thickly, brushing saliva from the corner of his mouth with the back of one knuckle, “I won’t be gentle, angel. If you can’t handle it we have to stop here.” You appreciate his warning to make sure you’re okay with the game he wants to play.

He relents when your expression morphs into delighted eagerness, wanting to play just as badly. “I don’t want you to be gentle,” you breathe, trying to move your head, testing if he maintains his grip on your hair. You hum happily, finding that he does.

He smiles devilishly, using his strength to force your knees to the floor. Releasing you, he moves his hand to brush your hair from your eyes. Your own hands climb his thighs, softly pressing into his muscles through the fabric of his pants.

You look up to his face, watching him lean a palm against the wall. He smirks, raising his brows and letting his mouth drop open when your fingers smooth over the outline of his erection. He swallows, dropping his jeweled hand toward your mouth and extending two fingers, “Open.”

The words aren’t a suggestion, rather a demand. You comply immediately, feeling yourself grow slick as he presses the digits to your tongue with a hiss. He bites his lip, spreading them out to pet at your tongue. Raising his brows slightly in anticipation, you close your lips around them when the fingers connect once more.

Then, you hollow your cheeks and suck. Pulling out all your tricks, you lave around the digits and force your tongue between them, much to the audible pleasure of the man above you. While you work, your hands continue their torturous fluttering around the bulge at the front of his pants. Eventually, your need for him on your tongue becomes too much.

Popping the button of his, you pause to tease him. Your lover growls, quickly reaching to free his girth from the confines of fabric. You try not to look too excited, wetting your lips again and swallowing around the ache of emptiness in your throat. You’ve had him time and time again but the sight of his arousal never ceases to make your own pool between your legs in answer.

He takes your hair in his fist again, coaxing you toward his lap and flicking his chin up once, “ _Suck._ ”

The command is enough to make you groan around every inch of his length, welcoming him happily into the slick warmth of your mouth. You pleasure him in earnest, running the flat of your tongue along the underside and swallowing around the head.

He keeps his grip firm in your hair, enough to control your pace. His hips roll against you slowly, working himself into your mouth as he watches from above. It only takes a few minutes before he sags against the wall, letting his forehead fall forward against his forearm, watching you intently. Your ability to turn him into a pile of bliss and your enjoyment of giving him this type of pleasure will never stop amazing him.

Gently, you let your teeth graze along his length, eliciting a hiss from him, “You love sucking cock don’t you angel?”

You whine around him, kissing at the flushed tip briefly before letting him sink his hips forward until your nose nearly presses against his abdomen. Unwilling to let such a moment overtake him and ruin his role, he pulls you off, groaning when you pout at the loss of him between your lips.

He doesn’t fail to notice the way your own fingers have slipped down to work between your spread thighs on the floor, rubbing at yourself through the fabric of your jeans.

“Get up,” he instructs, releasing your hair to curl his fingers around you wrist and pulling you up from the floor. He moves, walking backward a few paces and letting himself fall onto a couch in the center of the small room. Something in the back of your mind tells you this is a waiting room, unimportant and ignored in the wake of your quest for pleasure. You follow obediently, standing between his spread legs. He reaches for you, bunching your sweater in his palms and yanking it from its place, neatly tucked into your jeans.

“Do you know what I want, angel?” he asks with a voice full of gravel. You’ll never get over his voice when he’s turned on or when he’s speaking lowly. The way it drops octaves and sounds deeper than his usual tenor. That’s not to say his voice isn’t always lovely, but the huskiness of your effect on him is something that never fails to raise your confidence and libido.

You shake your head at him, holding up your sweater for him with both hands while he uses just a little more force than necessary unbuttoning your jeans and yanking the denim down your thighs. You place a hand on his shoulder for balance as you step out of each leg.

He smiles, happily focused on getting you out of them as quickly as possible, before he looks up and leans toward your mouth. “I want to bury my cock in this pretty little pussy,” he says against your lips, digging his thumb into your panties suddenly, directly over your clit. Just in time to make you cry out softly, directly into his mouth. The words paint your cheeks with a hot blush, whimpering as he cups the back of your thighs in his palms and pulls you onto his lap.

“You’re soaked,” he comments, petting his index finger along the damp fabric between your legs. “I bet I don’t even need to stretch you out.” The way he purrs the words against the side of your neck is truly sinful, and every syllable sounds exactly like it is intended coming out of his filthy mouth.

Pulling you against him, he kisses you again when your hands find his shoulders, curling in the padding of his red suit jacket. He kisses you over and over, addicting until you’re lightheaded and high on the taste of his lips and the feel of his sturdy frame beneath you.

Impatient, he pulls your sweater over your head, whipping it into a ball and throwing it to the floor. His palms slide up over your ribs, taking handfuls of your breasts and squeezing through the material of your bra. He repeats the motion with the flesh of your ass, slipping his palm beneath the hem of your panties and groaning against your throat.

He bites at the skin below your ear, earning him a gasp. The bruise he sucks into the flesh is coupled with the motion of his hands shoving your hips down against his erection. You moan in tandem as he guides your rocking motion with a handful of your rear.

“Does that feel good angel?” he rasps. You meet his sharp eyes with hooded ones of your own, nodding. He forces your back to bow, leaning into him completely. Your breath halts when you feel him take more flesh into his palm and squeeze, letting his fingers slide between your cheeks to press feather-light against the hidden ring of muscle as they pass.

You meet his gaze, speaking without any actual words. You’ve both been experimenting with it, willing or wanting to try but taking it slowly and unable to get more than a full, single finger in for now.

He relents, aware that the current situation is not the best place, but not without pressing his index finger over it and rubbing gentle circles to make you shiver in his grasp. His hand moves out of your panties just to pull them down your thighs and help you kick them off.

“I really want to spank you…but we’ll have to save that for later,” he comments gruffly, biting at his own lips as he squeezes you one more time.

Then the clasp of your bra falls open and the straps are sliding down your arms. His mouth and hands replace the fabric immediately, licking and pinching at the buds of your nipples until you’re moaning. Twitching, he works you back down against his length while he kisses your breasts.

Sounds of pleasure harmonize between you at the sudden feeling of his length sliding through your folds, wet and warm. Your hips move of their own accord now, working yourself across his lap to an agreeable rhythm.

He pulls your head to meet his lips again, kissing and biting at your lips until the need for air grows too important. He watches your face as you work yourself against him, “You want it, angel?”

You nod without hesitation, lifting yourself and taking his cock in your hand. He stops you without a word. Only a sinister smile as he forces you from your perch to turn you around and spread your legs back over him facing the wall.

Caught up in the heat, you had been too preoccupied to notice the wall you face is mirrored from floor to ceiling. Your own eyes greet you in the mirror, dilated with bliss. They rake down the form of the naked woman staring back at you, admiring the purple petals of his marks blooming softly across the pink flush of your chest and neck.

A pair of intense blue eyes catch your attention from behind you, the face of your lover expressing a grin when you smile. His palms, strong and warm, attached to fingers dressed in jewels manipulate you in a manner that is rough and gentle all at once.

Slowly, he guides your hips up, holding them with both hands as he sinks you down appropriately, effectively catching the head of his cock at your center. Your lips drop open in a slack-jawed groan as you let yourself slide down inch by inch. You can feel his lips dragging against your spine, burning kisses along your skin.

He was right, much to your mutual delight, there is not much prepping to do. The way he is filling you, wet and warm is a kind of bliss you relish, basking in the pleasure while you reach up to grasp your own breast in your palm. Your eyes watch the explicit scene unfold in the mirror, feeling a little like you’re watching porn.

Your lover adjusts himself, pressing his shoulders into the couch cushions. One of his hands grasps your hip still, the other sliding up and down over your ribs. He moans once you’ve established your rhythm. He follows your speed, lifting his hips to thrust up into your heat with every bounce on his cock.

You feel heat all over your body, but most prominently on your cheeks, concentrated there in a deep rose and so turned on you feel like tears might soon spill from your eyes. He fucks you like this, drinking in every sound you make, getting louder by the second.

“Look at you,” he comments gruffly, pressing his fingertips into your skin. The sight of your joining bodies in the mirror pulls a soft hum of pleasure from his chest, “So good for me.”

His hands pull you back to lean against him, only for one to lift and cover your mouth. Both of you watch your bodies come together repeatedly in the mirror. “You’re being so loud, angel,” he says against your hair, panting. “Someone could come in at any second,” he reminds.

The idea of being caught sends a thrill straight to your core, squeezing around his thrusts. He feels it, groaning against the side of your neck. You’re sweating now, trying not to get carried away by the overwhelming surge pleasure you feel. You’ve been so on edge for him.

“ _Oh?_ ” he muses, slowing the pace but slamming you against his lap harder and deeper, “Would you like that? Want someone to walk in and see you spread open for me?”

You go with it, nodding. He tuts at you, releasing your mouth to run the hand down your side. He glides it over your mound to tap at your clit with his index finger.

He's quiet for a moment, focused on the sight of you in the mirror. “What if it was one of my brothers, hm?”, he asks huskily. This time, you hesitate, but the way you swallow and your walls flutter around him tells all.

“Which one,” he growls now, circling your bud with his finger slowly while he grinds up into you. “Is it Baekhyun?”

You don’t have time to say anything, watching him question you as he fucks you through the mirror. His gaze meets yours, “Chanyeol?” he says, watching your face as your brows furrow in bliss and your lips drop open. He doesn’t relent, flicking his fingers over your clit quickly with a smirk.

He raises you completely from his cock once, landing a mild smack against your folds when you don’t answer with words. You whine at the loss of him. “Answer me,” he demands, and for a moment you fear this is a cruel joke and a line being crossed and that Junmyeon is actually upset with you.

He seems to sense your fear, immediately guiding you back over the head of his length and sweetly sliding you down until you’re seated fully on his lap again, “I think he would like that,” he sighs, turning your head to kiss your lips before he moves again. Something to let you know that he is not upset at all.

“Would you let him watch?” he rasps when you’ve resumed, and the fear has passed. You nod, whimpering at the idea of another person, let alone someone you know well, to watch you so intimately.

He chuckles beneath you, thrusting up once roughly to make you cry out, “Would you let him touch you, angel?”

You moan, closing your eyes and letting a hand drift to your clit. “What a bad girl,” he comments, replacing his own fingers on your bundle of nerves and meeting your eyes in the mirror, “Want him to get on his knees and lick your pretty little clit while I fuck you like this?”

You moan loudly, bouncing with fervor. “Use your words, angel,” he commands softly, thrusting up into you harder. From what you can see of him in the mirror, his expression mirrors yours. His chest and face are flushed red, his lips swollen and red from biting them.

“ _Yes,_ ” you moan. The man beneath you groans a curse aloud. Your legs are starting to become jello, tired from exertion.

“What else? Would you want me to flip you on your knees and fuck you while you choke on his cock?” he asks, and the visual has you skyrocketing on pleasure. Your walls begin to squeeze him tighter. You pull air harder, in thick swallows as you chase the high.

Your lover moans quietly, lifting you altogether once more, pausing just briefly enough to let you get on your knees and continue. He manipulates your body to lean forward as far as you comfortably can, grasping a hip in one hand and a wrist in the other, pulled back toward his chest. The new angle hits differently, spiraling closer to orgasm the deeper he reaches.

“Would you _fuck_ him? Let him slide his thick cock into your pussy while I fucked you here?” he groans, sliding a finger up the cleft of your ass. Your answering moan is all he wants, rewarding you with a handful of the flesh and a smack that sounds loud in the small room. You yelp at the sudden feeling and slight sting, but it doesn’t hurt at all.

He groans audibly with the motion, soothing his palm over the skin. “Or would you rather he fucked all of my come back into your abused pussy, hm?”

You gasp, finding your clit again with your own fingers. The man beneath you growls, “You only get to come on _my_ cock... as long as everyone knows this pussy is _mine._ ” You straighten your back, pleasure shooting up your spine when he smacks the same cheek once more.

“ _Fuck,_ ” you mewl, rubbing faster while he pulls your hips back and forth at a bruising pace. His dirty talk is sending you into oblivion so quickly you can’t keep your eyes open any longer to watch the scene in the mirror. The obscene sounds of wetness between your bodies certainly doesn’t help in slowing the delirium of bliss.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he mirrors your word, “You’re so close angel…” His lips find your spine again, fingertips digging into the skin of your hips to rock you against him harder.

“You’re going to take it all like a good girl…” he pants out, adjusting himself beneath you so that he can piston his own hips faster against you. He reaches up to take a handful of your left breast, tweaking the nipple between his fingers briefly until his hips falter and his pace becomes frantic.

He begins holding his breath behind you, filling his lungs with shallow bites of oxygen and humming his pleasure. This part is always your favorite, even if he disagrees. Hearing, seeing, feeling, it doesn’t matter. Experiencing him coming undone often gives you the right leverage to ride the crest of your own wave, crashing down around you only moments before he does.

You can feel the damp heat of his breath against your back, your fingers bringing you so close to your high that your legs begin shaking on either side of his thighs, “ _Jun…_ ” you whimper softly, falling out of the roles.

You suck in one sharp gasp, back bowing forward and he catches you by the waist with one strong arm, gripping you to him like a vice as you ride him through your orgasm on a silent scream.

With lips planted at your shoulder, he kisses at your skin and pulls your hips down over him tightly. He releases a long moan with the breath he was holding, letting your walls pulse around him until there’s nothing left. His fingers find their way to your sensitive clit, petting just enough to feel you jolt against him once or twice. To feel you squeeze the last few drops from him with a hiss.

Spent and tired, you slowly open your eyes to find the mess of your bodies in the mirror. Your fingers clutch at his knees through the fabric of his red pants, burning beneath your palms. Behind you, your lover has an arm slung over his eyes and his exposed chest rises and falls quickly in long, deep breaths.

An uncomfortable sort of lead makes a home in the pit of your stomach. One you think showed up just before the height of your pleasure, your head aware it was hovering at the edges of thought but too charged to give its presence any attention.

You turn as best as your body can manage, looking for his eyes. Two that now make you frown, unable to see the true depth of them through the artificial color. He feels you move, lifting his arm just enough to meet your searching eyes. He gives you a dazzling smile.

And it breaks you.

A choked laugh bubbles up and rips past your lips in tandem with tears that slide down your cheeks. His arm moves from his face to yours, grunting his worry and dissatisfaction when he can’t hold you properly in this position.

Gentle palms cradle your thighs as he lifts you from his softening length, earning a whimper from you and ignoring the mess of your mutual need the action creates.

“Did I hurt you?” he whispers, wiping tears with his thumbs as he pulls you against his chest, “I’m sorry.”

An apology only makes you sob harder against him. You should be the one who is sorry, feeling the shame wash over you and stick like poisonous tar in your mouth. Shaking your head at him, you try to work words in through your tears.

“No,” you choke again, looking to the ceiling and blinking rapidly as you try to keep it in, “ _I’m_ sorry.”

When you look to him again, he softens. “For what? You didn’t do anything wrong,” he clarifies.

Your arms gesture around, between your bodies wildly and to the door and the mirror and Junmyeon can’t quite understand what you’re trying to articulate until a name froths from your lips in a garbled cry.

“ _Oh,_ sweetheart,” he coos, understanding painting his features. He smiles at you, something you don’t think you deserve.

“I’m so _sorry,_ ” you moan, pressing the heels of your palms to your eyes. Junmyeon rubs at your body with soothing, comforting hands. “It’s just _you,_ ” you try to continue, taking deep breaths through your tears, “I didn’t mean it.”

The way your voice shatters makes your boyfriend crush you to his chest, hastily pulling you across his lap again and tucking your legs up against his side. He wraps his arms around as much of you as he can, kissing your hair and your shoulder and your ear, everywhere his lips can reach without dislodging you from his hold.

“ _Y/N,_ ” he says calmly, “Please don’t think that was a mistake.”

You don’t respond at first, continuing to let your heart lodge itself in your throat. Part of you wishes it would just suffocate you so you would not have to feel this awful or guilty.

Junmyeon stirs you from your thoughts. “I’m sorry I suggested it if it made you uncomfortable,” he clarifies.

Your glassy and red eyes snap to his, “No, please don’t be. I’m the one who…” you trail, unable to get the words out, “I feel _awful._ ”

“Hey,” he tries, pulling your hands away from your face so he can kiss at the apples of your cheeks and your lips so you stop biting them so hard to keep in your cries. “ _Why?_ ”

“I feel like I _cheated,_ ” you confess immediately through a sob. Holding the words on your tongue is nearly unbearable, you feel absolutely disgusted with yourself. You feel crazy and sick and ridiculous all at once. Your body feels hot and cold at the same time.

Junmyeon stills against you, nodding his head, “Sweetheart, _no._ Inviting another person into our sex life mutually is not cheating. It is certainly something worth discussing together but it is not at all even close to that. Please don’t be upset.”

You drag two large swallows of air into your lungs and breathe for a moment, “But we didn’t talk about it first, and I _l-liked_ it.”

He smiles at you, genuinely, “It’s okay. Like I said, I brought it up. I’m okay with inviting him into the bedroom, too. Just maybe not all the time.”

“I don’t want to,” you state, shaking your head and letting your hands run the length of Junmyeon’s arms and chest, “I don’t want it to be _real._ I only want _you_ ,” you choke down again, clearing your throat, “I’ve only wanted _you._ ”

The grin that spreads across his face makes him look up at the ceiling, swiping his tongue over his lips as he fights down his smile. This is a quirk of his you know means your words have made him extremely happy or he thinks you’re incredibly endearing… or both.

His reaction seems to deflate some of the tension from your shoulders, “I’m sorry I’m crazy,” you admit.

Then the smile falls, “You’re _not_ crazy at all, and I know it’s hard for you to ignore being told you are for a long time.” He says the words without stopping, all on one breath because he knows you would try to object.

“You are a wonderful person and you’re thoughtful and considerate and not at all anything like what those people tried to make you believe,” he petitions with furrowed brows. His features smooth again with a whisper, “I’m so lucky to have you.”

The words spring new tears to your eyes and you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging his head to your chest, “Thank you.”

When you release him, he nods and pecks your lips quickly. You smile, feeling a bit sheepish and on edge still and altogether emotionally and physically drained. His fingers are gentle as he brings them to your face to wipe your slowing tears.

You place your hand over his, guiding it to your lips where you place a kiss against the skin. He looks at you fondly, softening with your affection, “Please just know I mean it. I don’t think about anyone else; I don’t want anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. Just _you._ ”

He nods, sitting up to bring your lips together in a series of kisses that soothe your soul and heal the bleeding scars left on your heart from others.

In this moment, it’s another kind of thought that creeps in slowly at the edges of your consciousness. One you’ve had in passing a few times, more frequent lately than not. Taking up larger spaces in your head and heart and getting closer and closer to whispering its name in your ear.

You don’t speak much while you clean up as best you can, both spent. There is some slight difficulty on your part with dressing because of how sore you feel. Junmyeon, ever the most considerate and thoughtful, helps you lift each leg to step into your jeans, pulling them up your hips. He places a chaste kiss squarely at your abdomen before he buttons them for you. Then pats the thickness of your rear after, eyeing the way it moves slightly with mischievous eyes.

The grin he serves you as he follows you out of the room earns him a playful flick to one of his own brown nipples, exposed by his attire. He laughs at your antics while you find your way back to his Manager.

As you’re wrapping your arms around him to say goodbye you can feel his lips at your hairline, slowly rocking you back and forth for a moment. The second you separate to stand on your toes and kiss at his lips, the creeping thought comes to sharp clarity in your mind. The sudden realization of it crashes against your ribcage like thunder.

You follow his Manager out, looking back with a silent wave and wanting to say, _“I love you.”_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, the final chapter of a story I am so completely humbled to have been able to write. This story means so much to me and has truly helped me grow as a person in so many ways. I hope that by the end of this, it has helped you, too, in some way. Junmyeon deserves the world and I wish I could thank him enough for being my muse. Thank you for reading.
> 
> As always, here's my tumblr (where I am most active):  
> www.tumblr.com/softly-savage-mint-yoongi

_Panic._

Absolute panic is the only way your brain can comprehend the raw energy bouncing around in your gut. Feelings of elation and terror swirling inside the confines of your organs, their chemicals mixing to create something bubbling and new, growing rapidly inside of you so thick and uncomfortable you feel as though you may burst.

With your arrival home, you slam the door too harshly, sliding down against the sturdy, cool weight of it and grasp your head in your hands.

Head between your knees, your brain gently reminds you, a message in the form of a memory of Junmyeon the last time he said these words to you, present for the last attack. Saying ‘I love you’, no less from him, was the last thing you would expect to trigger one, but that was the irony of having panic attacks; sometimes you never know.

You concentrate intently, calming your breath enough to listen for the sound of your watch, reliably ticking away there on your wrist. It is one reason you prefer to wear an analog one, other than your preferences for their history. Tck, tck, tck, tck, rhythmically you listen, breathing deeply over the span of three seconds, releasing carbon dioxide in the following three. Over and over until your heart is beating normally again. Softly, automatic and easily ignored within the safety of your ribs.

Then, to clarify and accept, you admit the thought into the quiet space of your apartment.

“I love you, Junmyeon.”

Reflexively, your fingertips raise to shield your lips, hovering a centimeter away. Your heart beats a little faster with the admission but is easily pacified without much effort. A smile grows on your lips behind them, amusement consuming the panic and coloring your cheeks in a blush for only inanimate objects to see. It feels silly to look around your apartment, knowing there is no one to hear your confession.

The following morning you can’t say you feel less terrified of it, your acceptance of the thoughts and ability to keep moving forward derailed somewhere as your mind raced into the future instead of sleeping.

Conscious thoughts considered at first all of the possibilities as you had settled for sleep. Good things. Things like a confirmation of his feelings, a mirror of your own, and further ahead such as living together full time and eventually, hopefully a union of your love with matching golden bands on your fourth fingers, or a child you could only hope would have his cheeks and a head full of fluffy black hair. To growing older together and doing whatever pleased you so long as you were together.

No doubt your brain decided, all of those beautiful moments were hopes planted without seeds, and you were stuck to watch a barren field grow nothing at all over time. Your fears and anxiety began to take them all away one by one, these hopes for the future you might never have at all, pulled backward through time like you were falling through a nightmare. Forced to see a life of fulfillment and love only to slip back through those times to relive the same life without any of the joy.

You awoke this morning, barely able to call it waking at all, full of heartache. Your chest felt so heavy you even skipped your lecture and called out of work. Upon hearing of your absence Soohyun even offered to bring you something to help you feel better, assuming you were sick. No texts that required an answer came from Junmyeon, either. Only one bidding you to sleep well.

When you ignored Soohyun’s text and the second day produced the same results from you, his persistence became annoying. You were perfectly malcontent there on your couch in the same pajamas you wore yesterday, and perhaps the day before, too. With hair unwashed, sagging in the bun atop your head and a three-hour old mug of half-drank black coffee in your hands. There on your couch you scrutinized every aspect of your life and felt nothing at all.

Soohyun let himself in of course, as he always did when he felt it was necessary. You knew by the sound of the keys outside of the door and the weighty footfalls of his frame it was him. The one person you trusted to see every ugly facet of you because although he was extremely dear to you, he is not the one that makes you feel like his existence is your tether to the world, and therefore, not as scary to face.

He says nothing at all. Uncomfortably in the silence, you listen to him close the door, toe off his shoes, and set something in a plastic grocery bag on the counter. He opens your refrigerator and pops the lid on something. You remain silent still, listening to the domesticity of him opening cupboards in your kitchen and the sound of noodles being stirred and plated. The sounds toy with your head, recalling memories of another man doing the same thing, but vivid imagery came with those memories.

The sound of the plate gently clacking against the microwave platter and the door closing, buttons beeping and whirring. Stuck in your memory of him, you whip your head around, too enticing to see if it’s really your lover standing in your kitchen and looking back at you with a smile and his arms folded across the thickness of his warm chest. If this is all just a dream.

The reality is half the same, the setting, but the way you do not find Junmyeon’s eyes or smile, but Soohyun’s face full of surprise but also worry rip the air from your lungs with a sob.

You’re not even sure when you started crying, but the tears continue to blur your vision. “Oh, Y/N.” Soohyun’s cologne fills your senses as he crosses the room to you. He takes the cold coffee cup from your hand, wincing at the stiffness of your fingers as he plucks them gently from the handle, and wraps your wilted frame into his arms. He holds you like this, coaxing out the agony of your bleeding heart.

Minutes pass like this, and after your sobbing has quieted to a sniffled dripping of crystal tears from your lashes, Soohyun sets you back onto the couch cushion, “Care to tell me what’s going on?”

Your knees automatically rise to your chest and your arms find their way around the top of them. The rational part of you knows talking to Soohyun is what you should do, but it doesn’t make it any easier to persuade the chaotic petulance you feel. Your thoughts internalize, eyes fixated on the basket of blankets in the far corner of the living room, fingers rolling a stray thread from your pajamas around and around.

“Y/N, try not to let your head get you all worked up. What’s going on?” your best friend urges, placing the weight of his large palm against your forearm. The action seems to ground you to reality. At least enough to make intentional, purposeful movements.

Your eyes find his looking at you as they always do, with so much pure acceptance. “I love him. Really, Soohyun-“ you pause, brows knitting tightly for emphasis, “Like… I’m really in love with him.”

The smile that he answers you with irritates you minutely, “Ah, I see. Well,” A pauses lapses between you until he thinks of what to ask, “What is it that’s scaring you about that?”

It takes a full ten seconds before you answer, “A lot of things, but mostly because I don’t want to tell him and scare him off. I don’t think I could stomach chancing it just for him to know my feelings, Soo.”

Your best friend draws a breath, nodding. Then he stares at you, “Okay. What else?”

“Aren’t you going to tell me I’m being ridiculous?” you ask, peeking at him.

He laughs a little, “In a minute, but I want to hear it all first. We can work on it all one piece at a time,” he reassures, batting your hand away gently when you take a half-hearted swat at his arm.

“I don’t know what to do, Soohyun,” your throat bobs, constricting the words with anxiety as you admit it. More tears well at the edges of your eyes, and you take a deep breath to calm yourself.

“I’m afraid, even if I tell him and even if he says he loves me back, I keep thinking for how long?” you voice, croaking the words. Another breath, “How long will I feel so happy and lucky but,” another breath, “how long can I take being suspended on a wire like that waiting to fall? It can’t last forever.”

Soohyun coos, even though his expression is sheepish as if he hadn’t meant to slip, “Sorry.”

“I just,” you sigh, wiping at your nose with the back of your hand, which Soohyun reaches to replace with tissues, “I feel like it’ll all go away someday. He will get tired of me or there will be some fight or something and I don’t want to hurt him or lose him. I keep having this nightmare that I’ll wake up one day at he won’t be there. That it’ll be like he never existed at all.

“But you want to love him,” Soohyun confirms softly beside you, gently tugging until you’re sinking down to lean against his arm, no matter how gross your hair might be.

“Yeah.”

He hums briefly, considering, “Are you scared of being alone?”

Truthfully, “Not really. It’s more like I’m afraid to start a life with him, because it’s so hard to go back to being alone if it doesn’t work out. To feeling that kind of heartbreak.”

“What do you mean? Like permanently living together or sharing bank accounts and bills and stuff?” he asks.

“Yeah. Like what if we bought a house together and then he decides ten years from now he doesn’t want to be with me anymore and then it’s too expensive for me to own a house alone so I’d have to sell it and find my own place again and it just gets really tangled. I can’t imagine being able to do anything other than just be heartbroken. How does a person move past someone like him?”

Soohyun’s silent chuckle is given away by his bouncing chest, “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself, but-“ 

You cut him off, “No, I’m thinking about the future.”

He pokes you in the cheek, “Let me finish, please. What I was going to say, is that I think you’re most afraid of the emotional damage that would cause you. I also think you need to look at this from your own perspective.”

Raising your head, your confusion is evident after his last statement.

“I mean,” he begins, “You’re saying this but what if it isn’t Junmyeon who isn’t happy ten years from now? Have you ever shared a life with someone like that? How do you know if you will be happy or not? And I’m not just talking about a house or bank accounts, Y/N.”

Soohyun squeezes your frame as if to emphasize his point, “I’m talking about personally. Are you going to be okay sharing every aspect of yourself with someone else? If you want him to be that future with you, he will be closer to you than anyone has ever been. He will be the one who knows your deepest and darkest moments. Have you two even talked about all of those important things? What plans do you each have for your lives? Marriage, kids, politics, things like that.”

Both of you pause and Soohyun sighs, “What if you don’t want to be together anymore at some point. How will you handle that? Do you think you’ll stay and be miserable with him if you wanted out?”

“That’s impossible,” you correct.

“Anything is possible, Y/N,” he says quietly.

Shaking your head, you ignore him and lift your head from him with a face full of resolute determination, “I am telling you, that won’t happen.” Saying the words aloud, they feel right and sure as they form on your tongue.

“Okay. Just saying, you never know.” It doesn’t help.

He feels you stiffen at the thought, “But I also think he will be the one who has nothing but acceptance and support for anything you may need. He will be the one you lean on and cling to for the rest of your life.”

Now that thought is something that blooms warmth in your chest and more tears to your eyes, but in a good way this time. You have already experienced that with him. Every obstacle you thought might scare him away he has done nothing but been patient and supportive of you. However, there’s a slight unease with the phrase ‘for the rest of your life’ that tinges the edge of the sweetness with fear. 

“Yeah, well,” you comment through the bashfulness, swallowing the anxiety that wants to raise your voice.

He laughs, “You can’t argue with me!”

The dull thud of your fist lightly thumping him on the chest brings you back to square one, unable to quell your worries for long, “But truly, Soohyun, honestly what if he doesn’t love me the way I love him? What if he doesn’t love me enough? I’m not worried about how much I love him.” you sit up suddenly, eyes wide and hands flurried, “I mean, look at him. He’s a celebrity, and a gentleman and too go-“

Soohyun’s hand clamps over your mouth immediately, “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Stop thinking it in your head, too. Let me tell you something in case you have forgotten,”

He stares at you pointedly to be sure you’ll keep quiet as he slowly removes his hand, “He may be a celebrity but do you remember what happened in those first few times you met with him?”

“A lot of sex,” you comment dryly, and he smiles.

“Well sure, but I remember you telling me so much about not the celebrity but the man with so much love and comfort for others and nothing but bleak loneliness and sadness for himself. About how easily you saw through him and how he told you he struggled with anxiety and his own self-worth. And,” he pauses for emphasis, “How you were there for him every time since you began this relationship. How you have helped him ease his own fears and doubts. Y/N, he needs you, too. More than you think. I think you see through him so easily that you sometimes dismiss his own feelings, even if you don’t mean to.”

It helps. A lot more than you’re willing to accept right now while the anxiety still has hooks deep into you, “Thank you.”

Soohyun smiles at you, “I think you just need to give it some time. Just because you realize you love him,” he makes explosive gestures with his hands, “Like really love him, doesn’t mean you have to go straight into making plans for rings and a mortgage and babies. Take your time, take it slow.”

“Take it slow.” You repeat after him, nodding, lips in a pensive straight line.

_____________________________________________

The following morning you wake feeling refreshed physically. Soohyun made sure you showered and that you slurped down a bowl of japchae and a few pieces of kimbap while he started a load of laundry for you. He made you clip your nails while he made you some tea and painted your toenails for you while you binged a new episode of your favorite show. He even made you take a nap, tossing your weighted blanket over your frame and leaving you to a peaceful slumber, locking the door behind him as he left.

You’re a bit alarmed that you slept all afternoon, evening, and night. Checking your phone, you realize nearly 15 hours had passed. 05:17a, your phone reads, forcing you to hiss at the harsh light when you turn it over to check the time. You don’t have work until 10, but decide you can’t sleep any longer.

Two unread text messages are awaiting you when you open the app. One from Soohyun wishing you a good night and to please call him if you need anything. The second is from Junmyeon, wishing you to sleep well and that he heard from Soohyun not to bother you because you’ve had a rough couple of days. He is worried that you’re so exhausted.

Chewing your lip, you send Soohyun a simple thanks, and decide to see if Junmyeon is free to come over and see you later. You don’t want him to worry too much, and if you’re being honest with yourself, even through the anxiety, you still want to hold him and be near him.

His response comes while you’re at work, just having woken up you assume. He tells you if he can finish recording before midnight he will come over, but stresses that he doesn’t want to keep you awake.

During a quick break, you take a moment to assure him you’ve slept enough and will be wide awake. You don’t forget to add that you would really like to see him.

Work goes by in an easy blur. You splurge on a fancy coffee and an extra shot of espresso to keep you awake on your way to the subway station. There is plenty of time to do some cleaning, make a meal and get a long hot shower. You even have time to wrap up an assignment for your worst class, feeling sour but proud that all of the time you spent unable to sleep, you managed to at least get ahead in a class that was otherwise the bane of your existence.

When eleven thirty rolls around and you haven’t heard from him, you believe he isn’t coming. A very tiny but loud part of your brain says that’s fine and that you were afraid anyway. The bigger, softer and sensitive part of you misses him to such a degree that you sit on the couch wearing one of his hoodies, leaning on your palm and fighting off sleep with only the light of the table lamp beside you for company.

You wake to the sound of the door clicking shut. Blearily, you squeeze your eyes shut at the harsh light from the lamp as you hear someone behind you. With a stiff neck, you turn and crack one eye open to see your favorite person trying his best to stay quiet.

He smiles at you when he notices you’re awake, approaching you as he rounds the couch, draping his palm gently over your hair. “Hey,” he coos quietly, voice tinged with affection. Without much thought, you open your arms to reach for him, and he bends down to you. Still sleepy, it takes your mind a moment to realize he has lifted you into his arms as you pass the bathroom door.

Your body melts into his familiar body with your arms around his shoulders. Burying your face in the crook of his neck, you inhale the faint scent of his cologne, still fragrant enough from this morning. “I missed you,” you mumble against his skin.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.” He murmurs into your hair. He feels you take a deep breath against him, chuckling at the sigh of content that follows. Slowly, he deposits you among your unmade bed linens and pecks your forehead with his lips.

A sound of protest rumbles in your chest, your lower lip falling outward in a pout. “Let me shower and I’ll come to bed,” he says, stripping himself of his sweater and tossing it into your clothes hamper beside the door.

You hum with acquiescence, “What time is it?” Quietly, through your sleep-laden eyes, you watch him with a soft fondness that settles in your chest.

Junmyeon sits at the foot of the bed briefly to peel off his socks and slacks, “Three twenty, sorry I’m so late.” Twisting himself just enough to reach, he kisses your lips.

“It’s okay. I’m just glad to see you.”

He looks at you for a moment with a lopsided grin and thankful eyes. His hand settles over yours in your lap, rubbing his thumb over your skin. Then, his warmth is gone. Your eyes drift shut again while you wait for him.

You’re not sure what kind of sleep spell you are under when he finally crawls into your bed with you, but your body automatically seeks his warmth, asleep but with consciousness floating at the edges. Your boyfriend sighs, wrapping you in his arms and placing his lips in your hair.

Snuggling closer, you let your arm fall over his ribs, settling your face into his naked chest. You mumble again, tongue loose in your spellbound stupor.

When your brain finally makes sense of your words, you freeze, bolting upright as if cold water had been doused down your spine.

Junmyeon groans beside you, already half asleep, “What’s wrong?”

“I-“ you begin, covering your mouth with both hands and staring at him. Heat floods your cheeks, worry turns your bones to steel, “What did I just say?”

He peeks at you with one eye, lips set in a confused line, “What?” He tries to pull you back down to him by the sleeve of the hoodie.

You watch him for a moment longer, realizing he didn’t seem to hear you, “You didn’t hear me?” His slight annoyance at your outburst seems appropriate evidence that he did not in fact hear you at all.

“Was I supposed to? I didn’t hear you say anything,” he confirms.

“No,” you shake your head immediately, running your hand through your hair with a deep breath to calm your beating heart.

“Will you lay down then? I just want to hold you and go to sleep, please.”

His request is simple enough. You do as he asks, but it doesn’t stop you from lying awake for what seemed like the rest of the night. Finally, you fall into unconsciousness somewhere around the time the sun begins to open its eyes, easing into slumber as shapes outside your window begin to take form.

You dream of Junmyeon. You dream of his hands and his voice and the relentless overwhelming feeling of good he gives you. You dream of his lips on your neck and his fingers blazing a fire under your hoodie, crawling up and up and up until his palm gently takes the globe of your breast in his hand and he moans.

Dropping your lips open with a sigh, you can feel your pulse in your core. Your hips seem to roll back of their own accord, body singing without conscious effort in your sleep.

“Fuck, I want to get woken up like this every day,” Junmyeon groans. Confused, you will your body to pause, and snap your eyes open. Oh. Whatever dreams you were having must have manifested physically, grinding yourself into your boyfriend to satiate the need.

You turn your head just slightly, smiling into a kiss your lover steals the moment the opportunity presents itself. His palm has not forgotten where it lays, giving another squeeze and a soft pass of his fingers over your bud. It pulls a moan from your lips, bowing your spine to push your ass harder against his aching erection where it presses between your cheeks. The delicious friction makes you squeeze your thighs together, further surprising you when you realize how slick you are.

“Good morning,” he coos with amusement. You have no time for words- you need him badly, and you need him now. It appears he doesn’t know how wet you are yet, so you show him.

His brows furrow in concern briefly as you remove his hand from your chest beneath the hoodie. The expression morphs into a grin when he realizes what you’re doing while you drag his hand down into your panties. You watch, open-mouthed in anticipation when his face mirrors surprise at the first easy slide of his fingers through your soaked folds.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, biting at his lip when he sinks two into your heat without any warning. He gives you one deep pump and you absolutely keen, feeling like you’ll burst.

“Junmyeon, please,” you beg, falling onto your back the moment he hears your plea, sitting up to find a proper position. He shifts onto his knees quickly and removes his hand from your core. When he lifts his fingers and pulls them apart, you both groan at the thread of your arousal that stretches between them in the sunlight.

Flexing your hips at the loss of contact, your lover pulls his attention back to you, working quickly to pull your hips up onto his thighs. He pulls your leggings down alone, just so he can marvel at the state of your panties. Embarrassment floods your cheeks and you push the hem of the black hoodie down in an attempt to cover yourself.

With what you would call a soft display of possession, Junmyeon makes a sound of warning in his throat, gently pushing your hands away as he confesses, “You have no idea how hot this is.”

“It’s embarrassing,” you whimper back to him. Your body feels hot, too hot. You’ve seldom been this turned on in your life, to the point of tear-inducing hysteria if you don’t find release soon.

He smiles at you, his eyes tearing away from the sight of your mess to look directly at you. “I promise you this is nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re amazing, look at how wet you are.” Junmyeon can’t help himself while he talks, eyes drifting back to your cunt and two fingers petting down your folds over your underwear.

“Don’t need to see it…” you whisper, throwing your arm over your eyes.

He hums, “You’re right. I’m sure you can feel how messy you are.” The two fingers he used earlier find their way beneath the material, pushing it aside to fill you again. “How does it feel, sweetheart?” he asks when you cry out.

“I feel like I’m going to burst,” you moan, unable to keep your hips still, meeting his fingers for every deep thrust.

Your statement peaks some interest in your boyfriend. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and his thrusts become slower, almost exploratory as he pets them against your walls. The palm of his other hand lays just above your pubic bone, resting the weight of his hand there, but you barely notice. Being filled by something has you reeling in bliss.

A second later, he must find what he’s looking for. His digits set an unexpected pace, spearing you in a delicious tempo. You feel so good, “So fucking good, oh my god Junmyeon, yes!” He’s hitting some spot inside of you that spins that coil in you tighter and tighter until you’re right at the edge.

Then his fingers are gone, but you’re screaming. Your eyes open and Junmyeon groans in awe at the fluid that has suddenly ruptured from you. Just briefly, but even in your pleasure, embarrassment is stronger. You clamp your legs together tightly, whimpering at the electricity that fizzles in every nerve of your body.

“I’m sorry, that was-“ you begin, cut short by the feel of Junmyeon’s lips on yours and his tongue begging for entrance immediately.

He's leaning over you now, fingers deftly yanking your panties down and off. You moan into his mouth when you feel the burning length of his cock lay against your dripping core. His lips leave yours just enough to speak, “Never be sorry. I’m happy I could make you squirt.”

You smack him in the back, “Shut up!” you complain, still embarrassed.

“You are incredible,” he reminds you, hands full of his hips while he pulls his own back precisely enough to tip himself at the perfect angle. You’re well practiced now with each other, able to satisfy efficiently with little to no error.

You’re comfortable to give and take from each other without need for conversation, like now. Junmyeon doesn’t ask if you need him to fill you- he knows. He doesn’t ask how you want it and you don’t ask him if this is okay for him. It’s written plainly between you in the blood heating your faces, the sounds spilling between your sweating bodies, the eager yet affectionate way you’re holding onto parts of each other.

It's clear in the way you let yourself relax back into the mattress with eyes closed and blissed out. In the way he leans protectively over your body with his own, needing to be closer and closer still when he laces his fingers into yours with both hands. In the way your panting moans grow in octave as your orgasm approaches and roars through you as you pull your hands away only to pull him down, flush atop you while you ride it out. It is clear in the way he, too, seems to melt into your frame, even as he tenses and moans salaciously against the column of your throat when his peak follows.

Neither of you say anything for a long moment, catching your breaths together in post coital bliss. You break the moment, feeling sticky and needing to get the bedding in the washing machine as soon as possible.

Junmyeon whines the entire time, refusing to get off of you until you nearly roll him off of the bed completely. Grumbling cutely, he helps you strip the bed and takes the wad of linens from you with a kiss.

He finds you in the bathroom when he’s finished, stripped and waiting for the showerhead’s water to turn warm. You invite him in with you, washing in content. You don’t speak, but your actions are loud. Loving, in these small moments of care for each other.

When you’re finished and dressed and the coffee pot is started, Junmyeon collects your favorite mugs from the shelf and opens your medication, delivering one small pill to your palm with a kiss to your forehead. The affection of it squeezes your heart and drifts a smile across your face at the progress of such an event. Months back, him even knowing these pills existed within your life caused you extreme anxiety.

You watch, reminiscing with a small smile, as he pours your coffee first, always the gentleman, before his own. He trails you back to the bedroom in silent happiness, where coffee mugs are placed on bedside tables and new bedding is waiting to be put on.

Junmyeon helps you remake the bed, pulling you down into the soft thickness of the comforter when you’re finished. He forces you into his arms against your fake, feeble protesting, humming his comfort once you finally give up and settle into his warmth.

Movement beyond the sheer curtain covering the windows catches your attention. “I think it’s snowing,” you murmur, lifting your chin to look at Junmyeon. Your boyfriend turns his head, exposing the expanse of his neck to you, calling you to place a gentle token of affection there with the pink of your lips.

He smiles when he feels your lips against him, but lets you out of his grip to rise from the bed. He picks up his coffee and goes to the window. You join him, curious if you had been right as he moves the curtain with the back of his free hand.

Surely enough, there are soft, chilled tufts of snow drifting by quietly, down to the street below. You watch, smile broadening at the pretty sight. Junmyeon seems to have gone still and quiet, and you turn to look at him with the feeling of his eyes on you.

As if broken from a spell, he blinks at you, cheeks flooding with a delicate pink. He busys himself taking a swig of his coffee and leaning over to place his mug on the dresser beside the window.

“You okay?” you ask, smiling at him with a gentle laugh. Your hand rises to his arm where it still has the curtain raised, and you hear him audibly sigh.

“Y/N,” he whispers, swapping his arms so he can tug you against him. Wrapping your arms around his middle, you accept his needy invitation for cuddling with your face buried in the fabric of the sweatshirt he wears. You’re content, serotonin hydrating your heart with the sound of your name on his lips.

Turning your head, you let it rest against his chest, hearing his heart beat and watching the snow drift from the top to the bottom of your window.

“I love you,” Junmyeon says quietly.

You realize suddenly how fast his heart is beating in his chest, and you’re frozen in a moment of time.

When you lift your head, agonizingly slow, he meets your eyes with a mix of emotions. Some apprehension, curiosity, fear, affection and devotion- all flitting across the galaxy of his dark eyes in a myriad of microseconds.

You feel lightheaded, remembering to breathe. It takes several seconds to swallow and gather the strength to speak. “No, you don’t.”

His brows shove together and the stars in his eyes die a little, confused, “Yes, I do.”

Shaking your head, you break away from his grasp, standing back to look at him. You want nothing more than to run back into his arms and let his words be true. You want to let yourself believe it is that easy.

But you have to protect yourself, you need to have time, “You don’t mean that,” you say with more conviction, refusing to meet his pleading expression.

Then, he steels his spine, feet planted firmly to the floor, and he sighs in frustration, “Y/N. I. Love. You. It doesn’t mean you have to say it back right now, or at all, or that we have to do something about it. It just felt right to let you know.”

You lower your head and close your eyes as if that will help to do something, although you don’t know what. To stop the thoughts racing in your head or the pounding ache of your heart or the tears welling in your eyes or the fear turning your gut sour. To block out the truth of his words or to just let go.

“I just,“ you try, exhaling deeply, “I think you should leave. I need to think.”

Junmyeon frowns. Of course he is sad, but he does what you ask. His feet move quietly toward the door and you hear him don his shoes and shut the door behind him. He does not slam it, and you almost wish he did. It would make your guilt so much easier if he yelled at you or slammed the door. It would make the echo of his words, said with such blinding genuine care, feel a lot less like a wish whispered down a hollow well.

Later that evening, you’re drunk. Drunk and sad, stumbling around in the snow in the park outside of your apartment building. You deliberately walk through a stick drawing of a heart and two initials, feeling rotten and lost and impulsive.

Your feet carry you to a messier scene. More snow, divided by a plow, sprayed with dirty water from shoes and cars at the edges of the street in ugly clumps that look the way your heart feels.

Annoyance settles over your frown. Your hands are toasty inside of your coat pockets but you have to keep removing one or the other to wipe at your chilled nose. You keep walking, and eventually pass a storefront with industrial steel and wood. It’s the sushi restaurant you went to with Junmyeon back in the spring. Looking up from your parade of snow-kicking, you see one of your favorite parks, with tall iron lamps glowing with their halogen bulbs.

The light casts shadows across the small snow drifts, as if painted black with patterns of bare tree branches. Walking closer, a serene calm possesses your weary bones, calling you to take a seat on one of the benches- a small smile tugging your lips at the sound of the snow crunching under your weight. For the hell of it, you twist slightly, snuggling back into the lofty chill of it.

The flakes fall slowly around you, still watching the shadows dancing across the untouched white. There’s something soothing in the blanket of silence around you- even in the middle of the city. A stolen moment like this at- you check your phone- three forty in the morning.

You let your mind wander, until another presence interferes with your thoughts, unwelcome. Steeling yourself to tell someone off, your head turns slightly to the left to see a tall, skinny man standing under the next lamp with his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets.

Then, he stoops down and collects a handful of snow, packs it into a tight ball, and immediately hurls it at you with half-hearted effort.

“Ow, what the fuck?” you groan aloud, flinching away to shield yourself as he does it a second time, stepping closer.

He sighs, “Don’t even act like that hurt. I could’ve thrown it harder.” You know this voice, watching for confirmation as he shakes the icy snow from his bare hands and pats them on his jeans.

The sharp jawline of none other than Oh Sehun cuts through the shadow, and he is wearing a frown when you finally see his face. He simply stares at you for a long moment before he gives up and his frown deepens, “Fuck it.”

In jeans probably more expensive than what you make in an average shift, he sits down on the snow covered bench beside you, hissing at the cold and wet feeling that surely seeps into his skin.

You say nothing in reply, still enjoying the tingling buzz of alcohol in your veins, and the bite of chill at the tip of your nose. It’s another five or ten minutes before Sehun pipes up, “Care to tell me how you’re feeling right now?”

When you face him, he’s watching you with a mix of apprehension and tenderness. “I’m feeling a lot of things,” you say, sniffling. You elaborate with a kick of your feet through the fluff of snow on the ground, “I’m worried, and scared and happy and disbelieving, to name a few.”

Sehun hums, narrowing his eyes and squaring his jaw, “Do you feel inferior or unworthy? Do you not see how much he loves you?”

Your mouth twists thoughtfully, “I feel like someday I will stop being enough. Someday I will stop being what he needs and loves. It’s happened before, and Sehun I’m-“ you choke, swallowing around the lump, “I’m so irrevocably in love with him that I am terrified of what that moment will feel like.”

“What if that moment never comes?” He watches your face without judgement, and you appreciate him all the more for it.

Clearing your throat, “How can I know it never will? I just need time to work up the courage.”

He nods, “That’s fair, I suppose. As long as you know he is so disgustingly in deep with you.”

His mock discomforted teasing pulls a quiet smile from you, and with it, a yawn.

“Come on, let’s get you home. He wanted to come find you himself, but I didn’t think you’d want to be overwhelmed right now.” He pushes against your shoulder, urging you up, “I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

“Did you track my phone?” you wonder, complying as he takes your shoulders and dusts the snow from your coat with his hands.

He nods, “Come on, I brought the car. Should still be pretty warm.”

_______________________________________

The following two days go by in a blur, and the uncertainty you feel ebbs away from your bones wearily, too exhausted to hang on. You go about your routine, you have to in order to stay afloat. You wake, go to class, go to work, shower, maybe do some homework, and then fall into a barely stable state of unconsciousness for a few hours before you’re up to do it all over again.

In the back of your busy mind, you wonder, almost without feeling, if this is the moment. If now is the time, so soon, that Junmyeon has decided he is bored or you’re not worth this kind of trouble. You chew your lip instead of the end of your pencil, letting it tap against your cheek repeatedly.

What if he is heartbroken by your refusal to accept his confession in the moment because fear made you yank up your walls just as he said the words? What if he has decided to pull his own walls up higher than you’re able to reach. What if this is the end? What if this is just the beginning? What if what if what if, the phrase parades around your thoughts like a vicious merry-go-round. You hate it.

On the table, facing down to not be a distraction, your phone buzzes gently. Luckily, the sound it creates on the wood surface doesn’t disturb the other library patrons attempting to study.

Stretching your back and twisting your tired neck, you pull your coffee closer, taking a sip and reeling at the warmth of it in one hand while you check the notification with the other.

It's your security camera app. A clip of video featuring one fluffy-haired Junmyeon entering your apartment with his key and dropping off a manilla envelope. He lingers briefly beside the kitchen counter, fingers playing with the string of the envelope before he lays it down gingerly. Something seems odd, as if he doesn’t want to leave.

After a few seconds, he looks up to the camera, possibly as if he knows you’re watching, gives a tight-lipped smile, and leaves. It leaves a strange feeling in your gut, normally he texts you when he is dropping something off to you. Perhaps now, since the camera was his idea, he doesn’t need to. You’ll see it from your phone.

You release your lip from your teeth, soothing your tongue over the deep indentations of your teeth. Looking around, the library suddenly feels like an empty cathedral instead of a cozy place of coffee and books. It is the middle of December. Not many students linger this late in the afternoon so close to the holidays.

With a sigh, you accept that your spell of focus and studying is over. Dogearing the page, you pack your bag and head out into the wind and setting sun. You don’t have work this evening, but a bath and a glass of wine to yourself sound like the perfect combination to hope for a restful night’s sleep.

Entering your apartment, you eye the envelope on the counter, right where your boyfriend left it. Part of you wants to open it immediately and sate your curiosity. Part of you is apprehensive. There is a weighted feeling of importance coming from such a mysterious package. Perhaps after your bath and wine, you’ll have a second glass at the counter while you open it. Perhaps the first glass will calm you and give you enough courage to face whatever is inside.

Decidedly, you do just that. Your phone even coos your favorite instrumental playlist from the counter in the bathroom, deliberately out of your reach. The gentle notes of the piano relax you into the warm suds, breathing deeply while you swallow, cheeks full of a simple white zinfandel. The weight of the chilled goblet in your palm feels just as comforting as the cozy swirls of lavender around your nakedness.

Wrapped up in your favorite pajamas and wine refilled, you hold your breath when you reach for the package, swiping it from the counter to open from the comfort of the couch. You set the wine glass on the coffee table with extra care, keying up your anticipation.

Peering inside the envelope, a handful of smaller envelopes peer up at you from inside. Odd, you muse, curiously letting them slide from the manilla onto the coffee table.

There are six pieces, each labeled with a number, otherwise appearing identical.

You take the first in your hands, and open it after another sip of wine. Immediately, you’re met with the familiar sight of Junmyeon’s handwriting. Letters, your mind answers for you. These are all letters. Reading the addressee line, more specifically these are letters he has written to you.

_‘Ah… where to begin,’_ the first sentence reads.

_‘Would you know what I mean if I talked about that feeling you have when you are in someone’s presence and it feels right? Except perhaps a little more? Knowing that in time, you will feel complete while with that someone, but it’s not right away? That feeling of looking forward to building a completeness in your life with that person. That feeling._

_I met someone last night who gave me that feeling. That feeling that I immediately knew I would be whole with her someday. At first, it was scary. Altogether so vexing and complex I couldn’t do anything other than feel totally stunned every time she came close. I felt terrible for my behavior in those first few minutes._

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_The weight of the passage of time pressed against my ribcage the longer we sat at the table, the less of an unknown length to be spent in her presence was so jarring to me it took all of my resolve to pull it together and start a conversation with her._

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_I’m not usually one who believes in the phrase ‘meant to be’, but I absolutely could not shake the feeling of this woman and the few simple words we shared. I liked everything about her. Beyond the physical, too. The expressions that passed over her face. The fire of her personality and the air of dignity and resolute calm that seemed to carve a home in her bones as she worked. Everything I could assess about her as a person from my seat at the table, I couldn’t look away._

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_She seemed to understand there was some sort of cosmic interference between us. All of the moments where I knew for a fact she wasn’t watching me, the depth of her eyes would catch me in the act of watching her work. They would settle on me, and sometimes I would be overcome with the weightlessness of space, or what I imagine it would feel like. Vast and unending, and at peace._

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_We played a sort of game when I realized, with a great complexity of emotion, she knew who I was. It was more than just my name, and that was not something I had anticipated. The way she spoke to me and looked at me, as if by no great feat, I were just myself. Nothing more, nothing less. Not an idol, but a person. I briefly wondered if I knew her from childhood, but could not gather any substantial evidence in my memory._

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_I did something that I’ve never done in my lifetime. Of my own volition, even. The thought of separating from her without knowing if I would ever see her again was something that I couldn’t accept. As if burned or suffocating. The feeling that causes you to move without thinking to escape discomfort._

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_I invited her to the hotel we were staying in while our dorms were being moved. Normally, I might consider that a ridiculous notion, one I didn’t think I would ever hold myself to entertain while in this industry. And yet… regardless of our intentions if the answer were yes, I needed to know if there was a mutual itch to scratch, only sated by one another._

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_Even without the recollection of her presence still so fresh in my mind, my skin, my bones, I think I could remember with perfect clarity how much she was able to move me. To feel as if I could move mountains with my bare hands as long as she kept looking at me._

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_It's terrifying, and elating._

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_She fell asleep easily, tucked adorably against my side. I hardly slept, too wound up with thoughts racing across the sky in my mind, seeking constellations to tell stories foretold about she and I. Hoping for more minutes with her. Hoping that minutes would turn into hours, to days, to years…_

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_To a lifetime._

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_I fell asleep, my mind too exhausted to continue coherent thought. When I woke, she was nowhere to be found. I couldn’t be sure why. Whether it be her own schedule or that we hadn’t detailed what exactly our coupling was supposed to be. All I know was what I am feeling. Sadness, disappointment, even slight shame. Not that what we had done was wrong, but that I couldn’t hold on hard enough to keep her here. I have no way of contacting her, and without knowing her thoughts, I refuse to be the kind of man who shows up where she works. Perhaps she doesn’t want to see me again._

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_I will go about my routines, wondering whether or not I’d hurt her, whether or not she felt regret. I will spend however long it takes, wondering if I might ever see her again, and feeling a hollowness in my chest I hadn’t know was there all along before I felt her filling that void so perfectly.’_

You don’t realize at first that you’re crying by the end of the letter. Tears quietly slip from your eyes, and your hands tremble just enough to make the paper move noticeably, the bottom of it smattered with a few wet drops.

Clutching the page to your chest, you let your head roll back and your lungs inhale a deep breath. Your heart hurts for him, nearly a year ago as these words he has written make themselves known to you. His thoughts and feelings that first night you met last December.

You ignore the question of why he wrote these letters but know exactly the reason why he has given them to you. It feels too easy, too surreal that he knew someday you would question, and he kept these as an investment. Proof of his truth.

Pain aches bitterly in your chest at how you pushed him out a few days ago. At how deeply and complexly he knew right from the start how much you mean to him.

You empty your wine glass in a series of greedy swallows, needing your empty goblet as an excuse to stand up and breathe for a moment. Wiping your eyes, you have an idea and know just where to put these letters.

From the top shelf of your closet, you pull down a small box, running your palm over the black leather with a smile as you place it on the coffee table. You move to the kitchen, returning to the couch seconds later with the half-empty wine bottle. 

You open the box and a small smile touches your features when you see the items inside. Not many, yet, but small tokens of memories and affection shared between you and Junmyeon.

The tickets to the museum back in September, four polaroid photos taken on his camera in his room during a visit. The card he wrote you back in October, along with the bloom of a flower from the same day pressed between it. Obscurely and without his knowledge, a balled-up piece of paper with lyrics he wrote for his solo album on. Somehow, he deemed them unworthy, but you love the authenticity of them and his handwriting. 

You smile, letting your hand stir a few of the pieces before you set the lid back on it, deciding these letters will join the contents of the box when you’re finished. After pouring yourself another glass and carefully folding the first letter back into its packaging, you open the second.

_‘Now it’s April, and somehow, on an errant walk with the peace of my own thoughts, I found you again. At first I hadn’t been sure it was you, or that my eyes were not playing tricks on me. After several minutes of short-circuiting, I was sure it was you on that bench._

_I hate to sound overly poetic, but you were too picturesque, as if the sun and all of the spring had been placed there just for you. As if you commanded the very season to flourish around your perpetuating serenity._

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_Part of me was torn, not wanting to disturb the scene. The greater part was unwavering in my desire to approach you, if not just to have your eyes find mine briefly. I am too selfish to let you go this time, unless you explicitly demand it. Still, I had to steel myself, apprehensive of your intentions that morning._

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_Luckily, your warmth toward me didn’t waver, and while I wanted to ask outright the questions that so often plagued my mind lately, I refrained. I couldn’t let the joy of the moment be ruined by bitterness._

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_Your stomach growled, and I remember the comfort of falling into step beside you naturally as we walked. The colors of the season are more vivid in my head, and the sharp contrast of your red dress to the green everywhere did nothing but serve as an excuse for me to look only at you._

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_While the food was worth the price, my stomach churned uncomfortably with the questions I needed answers to. The same questions I felt coming from you, and the confusion and hurt and desire. When you finally told me it was not a good idea, I felt my heart crack. Looking back, I wasn’t pleased with myself when I hissed out my reply. The pain was too momentous to control. That was the turning point. The conversations that followed as we went out onto the street._

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_It dawned on me then, that with my own anxiety and shortcomings, you had your own self-doubts. You made it clear that you saw me as the stars, and yourself little more than a spectator of them, out of reach. I realized in that moment how similar we are, and an overwhelming need to know more about you passed through me._

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_I am always thankful and comforted when I think back on that conversation. The relief I felt when you told me you didn’t regret it and that you wanted me as badly as I wanted you. Still want you, for the record. You defended me from even myself so vehemently, all while fighting the idea of indulging in the moment. Not just for your own benefit, but mine, too._

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_It was clear how much you worried over thoughts for the future, and the consideration of my feelings and your own thereafter. I’m very thankful, but I’m sure that must be exhausting. I desperately want you in my life, no matter how busy that is, and I am holding my breath in hope that you’ll want me in yours just the same._

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_The sex… by far, has always been indescribably real. Connecting with you in such a fashion, well, I won’t touch on it, because that isn’t what this is about. Even though I can count our meetings on one hand, this one is my favorite, so far._

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_Not just because of the sex, but the conversation, and the connection I felt with you through all of the planes of existence. I won’t lie, it was insurmountably frightening the moment you looked at me in the shower. More than my face, or my eyes. It took you one second to permeate the deepest center of my heart, and I could feel the warmth and safety of your soul holding mine. Oh my god, I am so cheesy._

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_We shared tender thoughts, and with them, pain and suffering. I like to think it was necessary in order to move forward, and I find myself wanting to grow more and more with you. Slowly, if you accept that. I don’t want to rush into things, and I want to understand you better. I want to do this right._

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_Even in the small, intimate moments while we ate dinner and just laid together, were blissful. I found myself unable to conjure any worries about problems I face, and even the physical manifestation of my anxiety… with you I had no sudden urge to run away and hide it. I had no feeling other than pure acceptance knowing that you were seeing a flaw of mine. You rolled with it, completely and utterly acknowledging of my existence as a person and not just an idol._

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_Perhaps that is why I feel so strongly so soon, and why I am so cognizant of it, rather than terrified as I should be. When I woke the next morning with your scent and your warmth still beside me, I was happier than I anticipated I would be? That sounds so peculiar, I know, but I was- even with the chaos that soon unraveled thereafter._

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_Still, wrapped up in new feelings and rushing to meet a schedule, I scolded myself when I left you standing in the elevator lobby without any way to stay in contact. If there are and powers or fates in this life, I am wishing for them to bring us together again. One way or another, I will find you again._

Immediately, with as much delicacy as you can muster in your need to keep reading, you fold the pages of the second letter back into it’s envelope with a smile on your face. Reading Junmyeon’s thoughts on your meetings was not what you had expected this package to be.

It is a wonderful gift, and one you now know he did for you, even all of those months ago.

The third letter is on a different kind of paper and the ink is blue instead of black, but the differences only make you smile at the possibility that he was still thinking of writing this for you when he might have been somewhere else in the world.

_‘Even at thirty-eight thousand feet, I am still thinking of you.’_ Reads the first line, and you smile knowing your intuition was spot on.

_‘I’m thinking of the third time I saw you. Standing still on the dance floor, with brows furrowed cutely and looking around for something. Until you quickly looked up at me, and I felt heat rise to my cheeks when you smiled._

_The way you jumped as if I had shocked you, I felt it too. All night it drove me crazy the way I could feel this tether to you. Even in a space full of others, at the club, in the car, at the karaoke room- there was a strange sense of presence. As if I could see and hear everyone, even participated in conversations, but from underwater? Suddenly I noticed that perhaps that is how my life has been all along, but the moment we would touch would be as if everything around were in such perfect clarity it felt like I was there for the first time. I know that sounds crazy._

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_It drove me crazy, but I gave you whatever emotion space you wanted. I didn’t push what we were, didn’t try to pressure you into acknowledging the tension between us as more than sexual compatibility. Then, in the darkness of that awful karaoke bar, I broke. I knew Jongdae wasn’t a threat- he has a girlfriend. I knew everything was fine but found myself exiting the room to look for you anyway._

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_Then, you provoked me and I can’t help but wonder if you wanted me to be the aggressor all along. If you wanted me to be the one to break first and make a claim. I’m not upset about it, really. It worked out in the end, right? Still, the thought of you being with someone else the way you’ve been with me is very painful. Luckily, I was and still am confident in what we have. That it is profound._

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_The moment you spilled the truth I felt high. Not like a drug high but untouchable nonetheless. Powerfully, cosmically existent in that moment, and all I could do was kiss you. I knew it didn’t mean we had jumped from point A to point Z, but A to B was still progress forward._

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_I can’t help but smile when I remember the cute, embarrassed way you tried to explain that to Jongin later on. Take no mind- I am not looking to rush into a relationship. I am happy with small steps, and to finally have your contact information.’_

You’re smiling and laughing by the end of this letter. You feel a little bit better, and a whole lot more in love with the man who wrote these. Part of you in a little sad at how short this third one is, but he has spoiled you, and you consider his schedule and lack of privacy in writing these.

Quickly, with the woeful glee of having to put down the best book of all time, you rush to relieve your bladder of the wine you’ve consumed this evening. A very small wedge of your consciousness notes the way your mood has shifted for the better at this simple and thoughtful gift. At the confirmations of his feelings and his thoughts that you’ve spent months trying to guess.

You realize that perhaps you were not communicating as openly as you thought you were. A lot of guessing and assuming about one another over the last year makes you feel a little bit silly, but you smile nonetheless at the progress and growth you’ve done.

Situated back on the couch comfortably, you fold the third letter back into it’s envelope with a contented hum, replacing it in your hands with the fourth. This one feels heavier and thicker, with more pages.

_‘You are my girlfriend now, as I write this letter.’_ He starts, and you can clearly conjure the image of a grin that would be warming his cheeks as he wrote that line.

_‘Progress, and good progress at that, feels very fulfilling. Although my schedules keep me from seeing you as often as I would like, I feel satisfied with being able to contact you regularly while I go about my business._

_The weeks we have spent getting to know one another, talking and texting and video chatting have been nothing short of a blessing. It makes me realize how much people, myself included, can take this kind of simple connection for granted. I spent some weeks without a way to contact you, so I do my best to be more thankful for it now._

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_In the last few weeks, it has felt like war with ourselves and what we could be, and I sincerely apologize if I ever seemed frustrated at you- I am not, and never was. You have always been right to be cautious and you are so considerate of my feelings and then your own, even if the consideration isn’t a good one. It doesn’t matter now, and I can’t say I am regretful that we spent time weighing those things out._

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_It may seem silly or superstitious but I feel like our relationship is deeper and we have a better understanding of what we are to one another now that we have been through that together. Had we rushed into it without more concern, I might be wary of how strong we are._

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_I was embarrassed when I called to tell you about the incident with the interviewer in the States. There was a lot happening and I was not sure on what was going to come of us yet. I was very surprised by how strong the repulsion to lie about us felt, and I failed to keep it off of my face and out of my professional life. Looking back, especially after calling you, I am sorry if it caused you any panic._

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_I had a long discussion with the managers and Mr. Lee when I got back, but it was after I had talked to Jongdae on the plane about it, and he gave me a lot of good advice on how to deal with it publicly. Please do not misunderstand or have doubts about what I told you- I was never pressured or given an ultimatum about you._

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_I told them that being with or without you was not negotiable before it even began. Typically, I am not the one to speak up in such a momentous conversation, but I have only ever been so sure about something twice in my life. First, about being a singer, and second, about being with you._

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_In the end, I was told it would only be a problem if the behavior continued. Eventually, we would have to go public, but I am free to keep my private life as such so long as I can maintain my idol publicity separately. Still, I needed some space from the familiarity and constant reminder of stress. I left, without telling anyone where I was going or for how long, to blow off steam._

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_The shock was pleasant when you told me you were accepting of a relationship. I was happy and thought perhaps you had talked about it to Soohyun, the same way I talk to Sehun. Those two are ridiculous. It helped melt the stress I’d been feeling with work._

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_My feet carried me to your apartment anyway, now that I knew how to get there. Even if I wanted to refrain or resist, I knew you, in any form, would be the balm of relief I needed. I was prepared to hold you and talk and just let your presence ease away the anxiety. The last thing I was expecting was the gift of news you wanted more._

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_I had been back and forth with it in my own head, whether or not I should have even told you. Since the beginning of our perpetual theories concerning the start of a relationship, I knew there was something you were not telling me. Don’t take it the wrong way- I don’t hold it against you, and I don’t expect you to tell me everything right away. Earning enough trust and comfort with me to tell me when you’re ready is enough._

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_That is not the reason I didn’t want to say anything at first. More that you seemed… tense or stressed about your own internal deliberating. I’ve seen first-hand, you’re the type to put others before yourself, so I didn’t want to burden you with that. It felt like taking advantage of you to do so._

__

__

_Then, with the simple confession of wanting this, of wanting me, and wanting me with you, it changed. I trusted you enough to let you in. You wanted to help me, and I am incredibly grateful. You’ve always wanted to help me, and I would be a blind fool if I ever considered that were not a priority for you, even from day one._

__

__

_By the end of the conversation, I felt more connected with you than I ever had before. I’m certain, at least in some sense, that was a bonus in the way you helped me relieve that stress. The way you took care of me, so to speak._

__

__

_Even the sex that followed seemed to have more weight or meaning. That it was more than just sex? When we settled into your bed I had a moment of realization that it was the first night I was sleeping in your bed with you, and that we were in a relationship. I was so exhausted, but I tried my best to remember every detail of your space. Although the way I woke up wasn’t that pleasant, I slept the best I had in weeks. I think I owe that to you._

__

__

_What happened thereafter, I know we’ve talked about it at length and that you’re okay, but I feel like part of your love language are words of affirmation. With that in mind, I will say again that you will never have to be sorry for struggling._

__

__

_I understand, at least to some extent, what you’ve been through. It makes my heart ache to know you’ve been through a similar pain to mine and the perpetual, vicious cycle of hate and doubt and fear within your own head._

__

__

_When I think about it, you amaze me. Having been through that, and perhaps to people outside of you and I, you might appear mysterious or standoffish. Sehun’s words, not mine, but only at first I assure you. I realize it is how you greet the unknown parts of the world, to protect yourself._

__

__

_But then to get to know the caring and tender way you hold those close to you. Be it myself, Soohyun or even now Sehun and the rest of my members. The way you talk about memories of your Father. It fills me with such relief and that feels selfish and wrong. To be thankful that even after all you’ve been through, and to understand it so completely, that you still love._

__

__

_I understand it so well how you’ve guarded yourself and it takes work to peel back the walls layer by layer to let someone else care about you the way you care about your people. I will never push you, but please, please know I am working as hard as I can to gently peel back those layers and to earn enough trust to let me love you the way you deserve, even if you might not think you do._

__

__

_I know that there will be days where you look at the world as if everything is hateful and ugly, and I understand that I might not be able to help you. I really do, but I will never judge you for that. I will encourage you to continue with therapy and taking your medication and to love the world and to let it love you back. Hopefully, one by one, those instances of hate are less and less, replaced by better ones._

__

__

_I will protect you with everything I have and I am scared, too. Afraid that one day when the glimmer of idol life dies and I’m not in the spotlight, that everyone who has ever looked at me with adoration will turn away. That the name Junmyeon will never shine the way Suho does. I know I am not perfect. I never have been and I never will be, and that’s okay._

__

__

_It took me a long time to get through that, with therapy and my own medication. There was a lot of unhappiness and innate anxiety in understanding that when I am retired and finished, I will not be alone. That there will be other people, eight specifically, going through the same thing, right there beside me. Hopefully you will be, too._

__

__

_I remember the bliss of the rest of that morning. The pure, natural contempt to be in your apartment with you, such a place that has you so deeply instilled in every piece I never wanted to leave the safety of it.’_

You feel a lump, but don’t let the tears fall from this letter. Looking back on Junmyeon’s last words to you, you wonder if somewhere within this letter is the time he first decided he loved you. He didn’t explicitly write it, but the way he wrote it gives you a sense that it was somewhere in these words.

The fifth letter begins with the echo of a phrase you remember hearing him say the first time you woke up with him in his bed.

_‘I’m happy._

_More specifically, I am happy with you. As worried as I was about having you over to the dorm for anything at all, I am pleased how much you fit into that space with grace and ease. Looking back, my worries were baseless. Every challenge I think you’re facing with me and my schedules and my members, you accept them and seem to move through them all without issue._

__

__

_It's relieving to be able to let you share even this part of myself. I know it has been something we’ve been back and forth on since we met, but I had been scared of the idea of sharing a part of Suho for once, instead of Junmyeon._

__

__

_Not that I doubted you- simply that I was uncomfortable, and not ready. With a sudden clarity it makes perfect sense why you were not keen on me being in your space, either. I’m happy we’ve moved past those fears._

__

__

_All of my members accept you, if you couldn’t tell. I have to take care of them, too. I couldn’t be selfish in inviting you into a home that is not only mine without considering their opinions. Even the members that weren’t present were on board with my invitation and happy for us to be where we are._

__

__

_Somewhere in this last week, I think I realized I love you. I’m not sure when, but somewhere between finally going to your apartment and today, I know it. I’m making a promise to both you and myself that I will tell you in person for the first time. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us if it is any other way first, and I know you enough now to be sure I’ll probably be the one who says it first._

__

__

_I don’t even know if I’ll ever give you these letters, or when really they became less of a journal and more of a letter of confession. You can probably tell by the well-worn pages that I’ve read these several times by now. You might laugh if I ever tell you how many times I re-wrote them, too._

__

__

_Y/N, my sweetheart, I can’t even begin to describe how fond I am of you. Please tell me if I ever become overbearing or suffocating in my love for you. Were it not for the reprimanding I’d get, or the fact that we would have to go public (something I never want to put you through), I would shout it from the rooftop and scream it during every ending comment I make, on every stage in every part of the world.’_

The fifth letter might be short, but it is sweet and you feel a bigger pang of guilt at having pushed him out knowing how much he loves you, now more than ever. You desperately want to call him. To have him back here in your arms and to tell him you’re sorry and confirm exactly how he feels is the same.

Instead, you tell yourself to calm down, and read the last letter. It’s getting later, but you know he will still be awake when you’re finished and there is absolutely no way in hell you’ll be able to sleep without him tonight. So you quell your racing heart with a simple text. It doesn’t give anything away, and you hope you won’t have to wait long after you finish reading the last for him to show up at your door.

_‘Please come over.’_

You can’t hit send fast enough, and settle right in to reading the final letter.

_‘This letter is a little different, because I’ve been so busy I haven’t had time to write individual ones. I’m doing my best to remember the last few months with you and all of the memories we’ve made. I worry I’ll forget them if I don’t write them down soon enough, and I don’t know when these will ever make their way to you._

_I’ll give you all of the ones I’ve written so far once I think you’re ready to read them. I have a feeling a day will come when I tell you how I feel, and you’ll hide. I won’t be upset with you or judge you, I know it’s terrifying, and I think having these letters will be helpful. Perhaps once you see how well-worn some are, and how clearly I’m recalling the moments, you’ll know I’ve written them all with you in mind. How I am always thinking of you. How I love you._

__

__

_For weeks it has been hard not to tell you how I feel every time I open my mouth in your presence. Some moments smaller or bigger than others, but none any less meaningful than the one before it. I think my favorite, of all the adventures we’ve had over the summer, is dinner._

__

__

_The way you described summer and the magic of it- I don’t think you realized how much of that magic came from you. As if your smile were the spell that kept the world from falling asunder. Maybe it was because it was so close to the moment I first realized my feelings for you, only a week later, but it doesn’t matter._

__

__

_I enjoyed the museum a lot, too. More than a typical museum, the fun that we shared, even when things went a little sideways was still full of care and laughter. I don’t know if you could feel the culmination of my feelings brimming over in the rain later that day, or in the way I held you as if you were the world. I hope you felt it._

__

__

_Sometimes I was nervous when I would reach home with my bag and realize there was something else I left back at your place. Not that I minded, but I didn’t want you to feel like I did it intentionally or that I was invading your space. In hindsight it seems to have been perfectly natural, and I remember how shy you were to give me a key to your apartment._

__

__

_That surprising gift was unexpected, but one I keep close. I don’t know how many times I’ve thanked you for letting me have one and letting me be there whenever I want to. I hope you don’t mind if I thank you once more, honestly. You may not know this, but more than just for spending time with you- it is a safe place for me._

__

__

_It’s somewhere I can go and don’t have to hide and I can get away from the members and the constant reminder of the never-ending chaos of idolism. I can sleep and it is silent and if I’m lucky, you eventually appear beside me and I sleep better than I ever do at home._

__

__

_I can remember your fear leading up to Halloween about meeting other people at the company and being in the presence of new people as my girlfriend. I can also remember the taste of you right before that party, but I don’t want to have any… issues, while I’m writing this in the dance studio, so I won’t write about it._

__

__

_We’re working on choreography for some of the new tracks and brushing up on old favorites today. It’s never been a question I thought to ask you, but I’m curious what song is your favorite. I have a feeling, knowing the way you react to me as my alter ego, if Obsession is the answer._

__

__

_Things are going well with promotions. Perhaps I’ve complained a little too loudly about not getting to see you as often to our staff, but I was so shocked when you showed up to our stage yesterday! It was very thoughtful of them to invite you, and I was impressed none of the members got wind of it._

__

__

_What happened thereafter backstage… I hope you understand how much you mean to me and that I never wanted to pressure you like that. We were pushing boundaries all over the place, and while I was admittedly nervous at first to engage in sexual play with you while in that role, I enjoyed it more than I thought I would._

__

__

_I did it for you. It was all about you, and I can’t help but feel like I overstepped and perhaps instilled some doubts about us in you. Please know that was never my intention and I just as connected with you as I always do. I was, and still am thrilled to know you only want me. We both know I can be a bit jealous and possessive, so hearing that was delightful._

__

__

_However, I meant what I said- if it is mutual, I’m okay with it. Healthy, even, to have a little bit of adventure. Please don’t feel guilty about it, it kept me excited too. It’s good for us to talk about all kinds of things, even hard to swallow topics. I’m proud to be able to communicate openly with you, and I think it makes us stronger.’_

You sigh, sad to see an end to his thoughts on paper, but feeling a sense of relief at his sentiments about your latest shenanigans, just days ago. Checking your phone, it appears that Junmyeon has read your message, but not responded yet, and you worry if he will or if he is upset.

No, that can’t be right. Exactly as his letter has said, he knew a time would come that you would need to have some sort of evidence of his love when he finally told you. This is precisely what you needed him to say, and that he could already tell, even those months ago, that you might need this kind of investment to understand the truth is another piece of his love on its own.

This collection of his feelings is so warm and whole that it brings more tears to the brim of your eyes, and you’re faced with the absolute truth that there’s no way he is upset with you. He was strategically waiting for you to return his feelings and the idea that you shoved him out makes the tears fall.

You’re surprised to hear when the door opens and closes behind you, and when you turn around to face him, knowing it is him, he only gives you a dazzling smile as he slips off his shoes.

Your boyfriend. Your Junmyeon, the one who, as crazy as that may seem, loves you as much as you love him. Gingerly, you set the last letter down, noticing it is still clutched in your fingers.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He greets you from the entry.

Marveling at him, you’re not convinced he is even real and standing here in your home looking like everything you’ve ever wanted and everything you’ll ever need.

He grins, with the apples of his cheeks dusted rose from the cold sitting high and warm on his face. His eyes crinkle with mirth and he whispers, “That good, huh? No words?”

You want to punch him for it, but perhaps softly, with your mouth. It doesn’t register for several seconds that you’ve been holding your breath, until you let it out and drag in fresh oxygen.

It's enough to spur you into action, bounding from the couch and into his arms, uncaring if your tears stain his scarf. He doesn’t seem to mind, either, by the way he adjust so your arms wrap around him from inside of his unzipped coat.

“Are you alright now?” he wonders aloud, not exactly looking for an answer but curiously chirping nonetheless because he wants the verbal confirmation that you are in fact, just fine.

When you look up at him from the warmth of his sweatshirt and scarf with eyes full of magic, he is lost and in love all over again, until finally you say what he knows.

“I love you.” You announce proudly to him, and the immediate gratification you feel melts any tension from your shoulders. His expression morphs into unbridled happiness, curling his lips into his mouth and scrunching his brows together as if the words were the sweetest thing he has ever heard.

“Say it again,” he demands, “I’m selfish and I want to hear you say it again.”

You smile, “I love you, Junmyeon.”

He absolutely giggles. The pure glee that captures him as you step back with barely concealed impatience while shrugs off his coat and scarf is infectious, or maybe it’s the light and joyous sound of his laughter.

In seconds he has scooped you into his arms and kisses you. You can feel his heart pounding right out of his chest where you’re pressed against it. When he breaks for air, he asks you, “Did you like them?”

Setting you down on the couch, you refuse to part from him when he gets comfortable, crawling back into his lap and holding his face in your hands. Just to look at him and make sure he is actually here, you let the warmth of your hands flood his skin and he smiles up at you as if you the only thing in the universe worth looking at.

There’s no rush to make it more than what it is, and you realize you haven’t answered his question. “I am beyond words to explain how much they mean to me.” You look behind you briefly to see them on the coffee table.

“And,” you begin, moving some of his hair from his eyes, “I am so sorry.”

His brows furrow together immediately, trying to hush your apology, but you press a finger to his lips before he can do more than groan in disapproval.

“I mean it, let me apologize,” you coax. Only when he has settled do you remove your finger from his lips, tickled by his constant puckering to hiss it.

“It took me reading these letters to finally learn that all this time you’ve done nothing but look out for me. You have always been there for me, taking all of my doubts in stride with a calm confidence I sometimes took as shallow or lukewarm feelings, and for that I am so sorry.”

“In these letters you’ve told me about your own anxieties and fears, and I want to assure you the way you’ve always done for me by saying I will never turn away from you.” You hold his face again, gently cupping his cheeks and smiling sadly at the cute way his cheeks squish his face, “Ever.”

You kiss his puckered lips and continue, “I am sorry I ever doubted you, even if you tell me I don’t need to be. It doesn’t feel fair that while I had all of these issues, you were there with nothing but faith, proclaiming with a profound clarity that we would both make it out on the other side, even if I couldn’t see it.”

“Stop it,” he fusses gently.

“No,” you poke the end of his nose and continue, “So I want you to know how sorry I am and that I promise you when I say I am in love with you- I mean it.”

He smiles, “Can I talk now?”

Grinning in return, you nod.

“I didn’t write those letters to make you feel bad about yourself for having doubts or fears. It’s normal, and I didn’t always have just blind faith. I had my own doubts about how much you felt our connection and how deep your feelings for me were.”

He rewards your silent attention with a quick, chaste kiss. “The answer is probably not, but do you know how protective your head is of your heart?” His hand rises to prod at your forehead gently. He explains further, “All of the defense it has created to keep you safe so you don’t get hurt again is not a bad thing. I just had to be patient, steady and sure about my feelings towards you. I knew you would figure it out.”

“Looking back over the last year at the progress we’ve made, at least to me, has really made us stronger. Look at how far we’ve come, Y/N. Not just as individuals, but together. I don’t know if it looks the same as mine, but I imagine the colors of your world feel a lot richer with me in them, right?”

He looks at your eyes for confirmation, and you nod, “It’s the same for me, too. You make me a better person, and I love you. The good and the bad and the sad and that’s okay. Relationships don’t have to be just good stuff all of the time. There is so much more complexity involved, but we’re supposed to be in it together.”

“I know that now.” You affirm, laying your head on his shoulder and snuggling further into him.

“Good.” He whispers, kissing your forehead. Already, you want to reread the letters.

After a few silent moments pass between you listening to the sound of quiet happiness, you lift your head from his neck to look at him.

“Can I tell you something?” you wonder aloud, letting your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He looks up at you and hums, “You’re going to tell me anyway, aren’t you?”

It pulls a smile to your lips as you nod, ensuring you have his full attention. Remembering the contents of the letters, you have to tease him as you admit, “My god you’re cheesy!”

You’re now sure the sound of your mutual laughter is one of your favorites. It takes a minute for both of you to quell, settling into a pile of happiness. Once more, for good measure, you feel the urge to tell him again.

Taking his cheeks in your hands again, you dip your head until your forehead rests on his and a kiss is granted to his lips. “I love you.”

End.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! :D
> 
> I have spent the last several months slowly falling, quite madly, in love with Kim Junmyeon (he is wrecking his way into Chanyeol's place as my bias).
> 
> Please enjoy and let me know if you love this work! It is my EXO version of Moonchild, my love child. A chaptered work with legitimate plot, full of smut, angst, falling in love, etc.  
> Look forward to the next installment and thank you so much for reading!
> 
> If you're a tumblr user you can find me here (where I am active daily and all of my work (+ some drabbles that I don't post here) are!)-  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/softly-savage-mint-yoongi
> 
> R.


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